Hearts of the Innocent
by FaylinnNorse
Summary: The Innocent. The Breaking Dawn. The Ageless. They were all part of a story handed down through time. She was swept into it against her will, and her heart will never be the same. Sleeping Beauty...ish
1. Chapter 1

She was going to see him again. It had been a while, too long. She'd met him in the street and still shivered at the feeling of his warm hand brushing her arm, his breath unsettling her hair, his voice whispering in her ear, "Meet me There."

She'd known what he met; they'd spoken of it before. They could be alone in the dark, with the moonlight flooding down in streaks of pearly light from the heavens. She was breathless for his touch on her arm again, his voice echoing through the air.

She walked through the tall grass, silvery in the pale lighting. It wavered in the slight breeze, swaying to and fro, like a dancer, bending and swirling to the rhythm of music. Mist hung in thin shrouds, periodically forcing the scenery to fade away into nothing more than an empty space.

In a short time, she reached the clearing at the top of the hill. A marble floor was at the top, reflecting the moon's glow, with pale marble statues to match, but often upset by growing brush covering the sacred surface. Creeping vines climbed across the floor and over the statues, with blood red roses and thorns.

It was a grand place once, now lying in glorious ruin, dimly illuminated, but reflecting every ounce of light it received, multiplying it tenfold. She stretched out her hand to touch one of the dark roses that lay over one of the statues, wanting to feel it with her own skin. The petals were silky and smooth between her fingers, but after only a moment her hand seemed to slip on one, colliding her flesh with a thorn.

She was left with a torn wound and blood streaming like a river down the palm of her hand and over her wrist, crimson red. She took a step back from the roses, standing to wait and wiping the blood on her apron. She stood. She waited. The night air was beginning to cool; she felt goosebumps rise out of her skin. She waited. He'd come soon.

"Aida."

His voice was like the sun finally breaking through days of dreary clouds. "Aaren!" she exclaimed, spinning towards his voice and rushing at him, nearly throwing herself into his arms. She felt them slide around her waist, strong and muscular. "I've missed you," she said, pulling away only enough to look into eyes. They were a clear, icy blue. For a fleeting moment, it reminded her of the moon and the marble, but his hair was gold like bright summer and his smile...his smile was the world to her.

He nodded and pulled her closer and brushed his lips against her forehead and down her nose and around her cheek, before finally finding her lips. Within a moment, she was lost in him, in his kiss and his arms and his warmth against her.

Then she felt stronger arms clamped around her shoulders and ripping her away from him. They were being torn apart; she fought, screaming and scratching and twisting around, but she couldn't pull herself from their grasp. Then she realized: Aaren wasn't fighting them with her; he was only watching her demurely.

She felt confused, clouded, in a dream. What was he doing? He loved her, he'd asked her to come here to see him, why wasn't he helping? "Aaren!" she cried out, looking into his eyes, asking why.

His gaze flicked from her to the men pulling her. "Take her away. You know where." His voice had turned to stone, and he turned his back to them, walking the other way.

The other men pulled at her harder, tugging her away from the place, away from Aaren. "Aaren!" she screamed his name now, louder and louder until her throat felt like gravel. She was pleading with him, mentally willing him to look at her, to speak to her, something!

He turned around at last, looking at her with something she'd never seen in him before. Contempt, maybe, or perhaps only pity. "I'm sorry, Aida," he said quietly. "We were never meant to be." He turned away again, and again, she was dragged away.

Her screams echoed through the night.

* * *

She was skipping rocks in the stream. The water was calm and still, a plain of blue reflecting the sky. Giggling, she picked up a smooth flat rock, feeling the hard smoothness under her fingers. She swung back her arm and threw it, propelling the small rock out and over the water.

Three splashes rose and fell back in ripples on the surface, growing outward in widening hoops, everlasting circles. Her brothers could skip farther, but she'd beat them, someday. She moved to turn the other way into the sunlight, brown mud squishing beneath her feet.

A shadow fell over her face instead of sunshine, dimming the world before her. Her heart beat faster.

* * *

She was picking flowers in the meadow, twisting white daisies into long chains. Their centers were bright and yellow, and she was warm in the summer sun. She tied their stems tightly together and carefully placed her finished chain around her neck.

She felt like a princess and the field, spread wide before her, was her kingdom, reaching to the forest on the far side. A smile curled on her pink lips, dimples pushing in to her cheeks. She reached into the grass for another handful of daisies.

Her hand caught on a thorn bush, ripping through her skin. She pulled her arm back with a cry. Blood ran through her fingers, slipping crimson between the cracks. The shadow fell again, over her, reaching forward with spindly fingers as if to touch her. She stepped back and swallowed, heart beating faster still, pounding deep within her chest.

* * *

She walked down the road, just thinking of him. She hummed softly to herself, running her fingers through her chestnut hair, pondering hair ribbons and lace, what colors matched best with her eyes. She had to look her best, to see him. Heaven knew he _always_ looked his best.

She smiled to herself again and imagined his own smile, beaming down at her. How she loved him! She'd spend forever with him, happily. They could be together for years and years, dancing through the flowers, laughing under the sun. She'd give the world for him, and he for her...but the shadow was darkening again, and her heart was in a mad rush.

* * *

His ice blue eyes, his back walking away. Her screams and sobs and the dragging, pulling her away. Her heart tearing in two...and the shadows darkening, darkening, a pitch black; night without a single star. Her heart was even faster now, more of a vibration than an actual beat. She could feel it shaking and reverberating through her entire being. The tremors coursed through her body.

A knife cut through her chest, curving slowly in painful, roundabout patterns close to her rapid heartbeat. They were carving lines and patterns, and she wanted to scream, but a hand was clamped over her mouth. Through foggy eyes, she saw a blazing blue-white light bursting out of her chest. The picture faded as she felt crimson blood slipping down her torso. The knife had stopped at last.

* * *

Aida woke in the dark. It was a stifling darkness, not the fresh, cool night she was used to. It was dank and closing in around her, silencing her breath like a flame extinguished by water. She didn't know where she was, or why she was there, only recalling visions of a whimsical past, marred in her dreams by a creeping shadow.

Her heart was still accelerated, though perhaps somewhat calmed from before. She could breathe now. She sucked in a deep breath of air and let it out again, trying to clear her head, focus on what she knew, figure out what she didn't.

Aaren...he was...he'd betrayed her. The tears dripping down her face didn't help the pain. She swallowed, trying to put him out of her mind. She could think of him later, when it wasn't so near. When she couldn't remember his breath on her hair or the sweet words whispered close to her ear. Later.

A door swung open without warning, blasting golden light into the room. Aida blinked, more tears spilling as her eyes attempted to adjust to the change in lighting. Two strong men walked into the room, probably some of the same ones who'd dragged her away from Aaren, into the dark.

They came to her again, silently, and pulled her to her feet. She half walked out of the door, relying mostly on their strength to pull her. They went up a flight of stairs, down a grand looking hallway and then outside into a garden, or a courtyard of sorts. They set her roughly down on a marble bench and walked away again.

She looked around her. The sun was bright, but not overpowering; it had to still be mid-morning at least. The air was fresh and sweet with the scent of lilac and jasmine wafting through the soft breeze. The pastel-colored flowers were all around, amidst green leaves. The marble floor beneath her toes was dusted with a plethora of drifting leaves and fallen blossoms.

Footsteps echoed over the ground. She glanced forward. It was Aaren; he was walking forward towards her with the sun behind him, lighting his golden hair like an angel. He sat beside her on the bench. She felt another tear slip down her face as she inched away from him, shrinking far from his touch.

"Aida, don't fear me," he breathed tenderly, lifting a gentle hand to her face to brush away a tear. "I'm sorry for what happened, for any pain you went through. It was just a test. To see if you're fit for the position. Will you be my queen, Aida?"

She was startled. A test? What kind of a test was that, locking her in the dark with horrible dreams and visions? But...his eyes were so soft and blue; it reminded her of the sky in spring, of the sky now. She thought of walking through the streets humming, of picking daisies, of skipping rocks. "Yes," she uttered the one syllable quietly.

His eyes turned to ice again—ice and marble, as the floor beneath her cleared of all but the wildest, overgrown shrubs. The flowers all morphed into blood red roses and sharp thorns, falling in cascades over the broken statues and ruins. The sun faded into the white moon and the sky darkened to night. Her heart beat, beat, beat, like a drum. She screamed—

—and woke again. She was in a room, lying in a crumpled heap with her back against the wall. It was dark, though not as dark as it had been the first time, faded into more of a smoky grey. She sat up shakily and looked around, trying to take in all of what she could see.

A deep voice echoed from across the room, far on the other side. "They want your heart."

* * *

Yeah, starting new stories before I finish old ones. Shame on me...but while I'm having major issues with GS, something new. And...different. This is based on Sleeping Beauty...well, not really based, more like built around Sleeping Beauty. I'm kind of writing it on a whim; it was originally a shorter thing for a challenge, but some people wanted me to continue it, so...this is the product! I'm not editing it a whole lot and kind of just going with whatever. It's kind of a NaNoWriMo type of writing thing really, except I'm not that fast and I edit a little bit more than that, to get rid of the really horrid proofreading issues and whatnot. Anyway, I'll stop blabbering, and you can review! I have a few more chapters written, so I'll be pretty prompt with updating, at least for a while. :D


	2. Chapter 2

Aida started, feeling a tremor travel down her spine. She didn't know who the voice belonged to, and she couldn't see anyone else in the room. It frightened her. And her heart? Her hand flitted almost involuntarily to her chest, recalling the knife that had sliced through her skin, but she could feel no cuts there and no scars, only her plain, healthy skin.

"My heart?" she ventured to ask at last. "Why would they want my heart?" She was still then, holding her breath to wait for the reply, expecting either something horrible or only continued silence. If he was part of another dream, he was bound to be terrifying. Or maybe he was only a figure of her imagination; maybe she was going mad here alone. She didn't want to go mad.

"It's a long story," came the nonchalant answer, like a man shrugging his shoulders as he went about his business. He had a slight accent, an almost undetectable tipping at the end of his words. He didn't sound like any of the villagers she'd grown up with, but not so very different either.

Aida was just glad that he was actually there and not another nightmare waiting to pounce on her with darkness, or tear her apart from end to end. She still couldn't see him though. She searched harder, squinting across the dimly lit room. His voice had come from the other side. She turned her eyes. There, where the far wall had to be, she could barely make out a dark figure.

She crept forward slowly, on her hands and knees, towards him. As she got closer, she began to make him out to be a strong looking man with long legs, muscular arms. His hair was black, hanging in unkempt folds around his head. She still couldn't make out his facial features; he had a pipe in his mouth and the smoke clouded the area except for green eyes, piercing through the grey.

She stopped for a moment, somewhat startled by his rough appearance. Her hand stumbled over something on the floor. She looked down. It was a knife, with a sharp, jagged edge and red blood coating the blade. The man in front of her wasn't bleeding at all, that she could see.

"Yours," the man spoke, taking his pipe out of his mouth to set it on the floor beside him. He leaned forward and picked up the knife, looking it over briefly and examining the crimson stain before setting it back down.

Aida's hand flew to her chest again. Her dress was somewhat low cut, and she could feel the area where they'd cut—in her dreams, she thought—and there was nothing there. They couldn't have actually done anything. She could still remember the pain, though, and her muffled screams.

"I would imagine you heal quite quickly. It's something your type seems to have a gift for—at least at first," the man said, leaning back against the wall again, spreading his legs out in front of him, seemingly trying to make himself comfortable. "They didn't get your heart out, by the way. They didn't really even cut you. Well, they did, but only on a certain level." He shrugged and looked at his fingernails.

Aida only looked at him. She had no idea what he meant, and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know. She felt like she was in a bizarre nightmare, and she pursed her lips tightly as he slouched further into the floor. He closed his eyes then, as if he meant to simply fall asleep in front of her. She considered crawling back to the other side of the room. She could go to sleep, too, she could forget all of this. Maybe her dreams would take her home again.

But no, the shadows might come into her dreams again. They might cut her again; it might be horrid. She wanted to go home to the farm; she'd do her chores willingly and forget about Aaren, no matter how much it broke her heart! But she couldn't. She couldn't just ignore the...well, whatever was happening to her. She looked at the man again. He obviously understood more than she did; she could get her answers from him. "Why do they want my heart?" she asked quietly.

He opened one green eye to look at her with an odd, winking expression, then closed it again. After a moment, he opened both and sighed. "Have you ever heard of the Breaking Dawn? The Innocent? The Ageless?"

She shook her head.

He sighed again. "Then it's even longer story. I don't have the time or willpower to tell you. I have about...557 counts left, and I'd like to do something more relaxing than talk about all that."

"Counts for what?" Aida asked, confused.

He yawned. "Until they come again. And then it will either be a somewhat fair trial that will most likely end in a hanging, or simply straight to the gallows for me. 530 now. They won't just let the rope break my neck and be done with it, though; they'll make sure I strangle to death. The rope will be far too tight and burning like fire into my neck, cutting off my air slowly until my lungs get tighter and tighter, and I won't be able to breathe or move. And finally it will all fade away. I anticipate it being rather uncomfortable, so I'd like to relax while I still can. 510."

Aida stared. She felt sick hearing him describe his death like that, and he was lying there falling asleep again. It was insane, and he still hadn't told her anything about what they were doing to her. That was what she wanted to know. "What's the Breaking Dawn?" she asked.

He opened his eyes again, looking bored. "A worthless ideal, usually. Maybe it will amount to something someday." He frowned slightly, looking past Aida, like he was seeing something far away. Suddenly he bolted upright and pulled a long dagger out of his boot.

She jumped and leaned away from him, startled. "What are you doing?" she nearly shrieked.

He didn't reply, too concentrated on what he was doing. He reached inside the thick, black coat he was wearing and dug around inside it for a moment, before pulling out a long piece of rope. He reached his hand to his hair, fingering the black, stringy pieces. "They'll take my coat, but if I had a dagger where I could reach it...make a run...someone would meet me on the other side..." He paused for a moment, brow furrowed, then flung his dagger onto the floor again. "It's no use!" he shouted. "I can't hide a dagger in my hair."

Aida watched him still. Confusion was beginning to make her head hurt. She still wasn't getting any answers, just plotting from him. She supposed, though, if he was really going to hang like he'd suggested, he did have some reason to act...unreasonably. If she was facing death like that...well, she didn't know what she would do. "I'm Aida. What's your name?" she asked quietly.

He looked at her again, with hints of both confusion and annoyance, almost scoffing at her. As if she cared what his name was. She was just some silly girl, stuck in the same room with him, having her heart cut out of her chest for goodness' sake.

"If I was going to die...I would want someone to remember my name," Aida spoke again, softly and almost under her breath, trying to explain herself. She didn't want him to think...well, she didn't know what she didn't want him to think. She just didn't want to sound like she knew nothing.

"Virth," he said, observing her more carefully now. His eyes seemed to look her over from head to toe, as if trying to determine exactly who she was and what she was capable of. "Thank you," he spoke again slowly, "for asking."

Aida nodded and smiled slightly; if she wasn't mistaken, he was looking at her with something like respect.

"If you happen to get out of here and I die...which is very unlikely, of course—not my dying, but you getting out—but if by some chance you do, and you happen to meet a man called Alexander Alexander, tell him what happened to me, will you?"

"Alexander Alexander?" Odd name, she thought, having both halves of it the same.

"Yes. Not very likely you'll meet him, but," he shrugged, "if you do." He leaned back against the wall again and slumped down again, until almost all but his head was on the floor. He didn't close his eyes this time but stared forward, first at her for a while, then past her, towards the other side of the room.

"Who is he?"

Virth looked up at her, raising one eyebrow.

"Alexander Alexander. Is he...a friend of yours?" Aida asked. She couldn't imagine Virth being very...friendly, but perhaps if she knew him better...

He sighed. "Yes," he said after a moment. "I worked with him. Good man." He was quiet for a moment, before saying, "I'm down below 450 now, so if you'd kindly be quiet and let me attempt to make some amount of peace with my short life, I would appreciate it."

Aida nodded, and he closed his eyes once more. She watched him, feeling awkward. She wanted to ask him more questions, get him to explain what was going on, but she didn't want to interrupt him at a time like this. She merely sat quietly.

It was so silent she could hear her own heartbeat. It wasn't pounding like a wild horse anymore, though, and it was almost comforting to her, just knowing she still had her heart. Thinking of people trying to cut it out made her want to scream and cry again, but she wouldn't now.

After several minutes, Virth sat up again. "They're coming," he said. "My piece of advice to you..." he paused and a grimace came over his face, like it pained him to speak. "Don't give your heart away, to anyone. Those I work with would tell you to stay innocent, but I wouldn't imagine myself so superior as to make such a command. Innocence can't save you from everything." He frowned and his face seemed to harden a bit. He stood up.

Aida remained seated where she was. She looked at Virth, trying to think and confusing herself even more. Of course she wouldn't give her heart away...but then, maybe he didn't mean so literally. She thought of Aaren and remembered loving him.

_"I'll give you my heart," she'd whispered to him, squeezing his hand as they skipped along under the starry night sky. The cool air was exhilarating, and she was with the only man she'd ever kissed, the only man she'd ever loved._

_Aaren had paused and pulled her to a stop as well. His fingers ran over her smaller hand, stroking it slowly with his thumbs, lingering over her skin. "Will you truly?" he asked, looking her earnestly in the eye. His blue eyes glittered in the moonlight._

_She giggled. "You already have it." She kissed him lightly on his pale cheek and skipped away again. Aaren went with her, but there was something almost too sincere in his eyes._

She shivered now, pressing her hand to her chest. He didn't have her heart, not really. It was hers, only hers. She wouldn't give it away. She looked at Virth again. And...stay innocent? It seemed a very general statement, but he wouldn't even tell her it himself. Did he mean...was he referring to the Innocent somehow, whoever they were?

The door swung open. It was in exactly the same place it had been before, in the suffocating darkness, when she was dragged to the flowers and...Aaren. Where she said she'd be his queen. She wondered if any of it had really happened and hoped it hadn't. She thought of what Virth had said, about the cutting. Only on a certain level. It didn't make sense to her.

The strong men were there, four of them this time. She could see them clearly with the light that flooded in from the world outside. Virth stepped forward with what appeared to be a pleasant smile. "I was expecting you," he said.

The men only stared stonily.

"Well, a trial then, or the gallows? Which is it to be?" he asked in a conversational tone.

"Your plea will be heard in the throne room, and your sentence will be executed immediately after," one of the men spoke at last, in a rather droning monotone, as if merely going through the motions of speaking.

Virth's jaw twitched. "Execution. Just had to put that word in there, didn't you? And plea...that was his highness's doing, I'm sure. Couldn't call it a trial, had to make me sound like a beggar. Alright, fine, let's go." He stepped forward.

The men hesitated. "The girl, she is to come as well."

Aida heard her breath gasp in sharply, as she tried to shrink farther into the shadows. The men heard it, though, and looked at her. They were big and menacing and she could only think of being dragged out of Aaren's arms and into the darkness...the darkness surrounding her...hovering in all of her dreams...the fear lingering with her still. She wanted to hide.

Virth turned around slowly and shrugged at her. "I'm sure they won't kill you. They want your heart too badly, and they've never been known to be prompt with executions."

She looked from Virth to the men and felt her heart pounding again. The knife...the memory seemed clear and vivid now. It might have been one of these men, cutting through her, carving her like a piece of meat, letting her blood stream down her. Or else it was Aaren, and she was sure to see him if she went with them. She couldn't do it; she felt like her insides would burst with fear. She shut her eyes, squeezing them tight against the world.

When she opened them again, Virth was standing over her with his hand reaching down to her. "Come on," he said quietly, under his breath. "It's better me than them. When they force you, they'll grab you and drag you out of here. Just give me your hand and come with me."

She pursed her lips, then nodded. They wouldn't let her just sit there and ignore them for long. She put her hand in Virth's.

He pulled her to her feet and let go of her again, and they started walking forward. The men surrounded them, two behind and two in front and they began to walk down the grand hallway, gilded with gold.


	3. Chapter 3

The throne room was a huge hall decorated elaborately in a myriad of colors. The walls were all embellished with tapestries depicting scenes from long ago: grand battles and hunts, chasing men and animals alike through forests of deep green and brown. Occasionally a statue stood against the wall also: marble men brandishing their swords, women so beautiful they could be nothing less than goddesses.

One in particularly caught Aida's eye; it was a woman with her hands folded and resting just below her chin and head bowed low. She was beautiful, flawless in shape and feature, but it was her expression that made her stand out. Her eyes were looking down and her mouth was drawn, but the corners were curled upward almost, and her eyes held both heartbreak and hope. Something about her seemed real, more than any of the great warriors. She was broken, but still had dreams.

Aida didn't have time to stare at her long, however, as she was ushered forward by the men at her back. They pushed her past without so much as a sideways glance at the furnishings. She turned her attention forward, to the room remaining in front of her. There were columns behind the throne that shone as pure gold and behind those were curtains of gauzy red and white.

She stopped observing the architecture when she saw the man seated at the throne, high upon the dais. Aaren. She'd known he'd be there, but actually seeing him still made her stop short. She still had so many feelings for him, both hate and love and confusion, most of all. She was pushed forward again and had to rush to keep up with Virth, who was neither phased by the grandeur of the room or the ruler within it.

They walked near to the front of the room, until they stood only a few feet before the dais. The two men in front of them parted before them and stepped away. Aida stood awkwardly, glancing at Virth who still stood tall and proud, meeting Aaren straight in the eye.

She felt a kick at the back of her knees, and she fell forward onto the first step. Virth did the same, with an annoyed glance backward at their guards.

Aida looked up again at the dais. There were two men seated on either side of Aaren, on smaller chairs, and two men also stood beside each one. One of the seated men was older, with a long beard mingling between silver and gold, so much so that it seemed to shimmer in the light, colors switching and mixing together.

The other seated man appeared to be the same age as Aaren, or perhaps a little younger. His appearance was very similar to Aaren but with darker hair and a more amused curiosity at the entire scene. His eyebrows were raised slightly and his lips twitched upward into a smile.

The standing men were both middle-aged. Aida recognized one of them; he was a herald who often brought proclamations to her village. The other carried many weapons: a long, heavy sword, along with many daggers at his waist. His face carried several scars scraping over his cheek and across his eye. She wondered what he'd gone through to get them.

After a moment, she looked back at Aaren. He was looking at her as well and met her eyes briefly, seeming to almost wince as he did so. He looked her over, eyes scanning from her head down to her toes, before back to her eyes. It was odd, like he was checking to be sure she was alright, but he was the one who'd hurt her the most.

She watched him, her gaze locked upon him until he met her eyes again. His lips tightened into a straight, thin line; his face almost looked pained. She wished he'd say something; she held her breath, waiting for him to speak. His eyes flicked away from her, over to Virth.

She let out her breath in a rush and looked down at her hands, remembering the warm way his hand had felt holding hers, before. She'd dreaded seeing him, but now that she did, she just wished he would take it all back and be her Aaren again, the way he was. It was pathetic, really, but she couldn't change the way she felt.

"Leave him kneeling there for his plea," Aaren was saying now. "Bring her up here; have her sit beside me."

His voice seemed to reverberate through the chamber, and the guards didn't hesitate to obey. They grabbed the back of her arms and pulled her up to her feet, then over to the dais. She made her way up the steps herself, and the younger man jumped out of his chair, to give it to her. He nodded pleasantly at her, even venturing a small smile.

She sat carefully in his seat, glancing nervously at Aaren.

He glanced at her, but didn't meet her eyes, only eying her and turning away again. He was ignoring her.

Aida looked back at Virth, still kneeling on the ground. He stared straightaway still, immovable and proud.

"Read his accusation," Aaren said mirthlessly.

The herald took a scroll from somewhere on his personage and held it up, unrolling it to its full length. He started in a loud and bold tone, "Virth Gideon, found in violation of the crown. Guilty of treason, proved to be plotting against the crown, guilty of theft of the king's property, interference with the king's orders, slaughter of the king's subjects, attempted murder of the king, destruction of the king's property..."

The list went on and on. Virth sat patiently through it all, carefully and calmly listening to the details of his crimes. Aida wondered what he was thinking. She wasn't sure how anyone could possibly have committed so many crimes, and she wondered if it was false. Virth looked so calm and accepting of it, though; she had a feeling it wasn't.

At last the herald stopped speaking, and Aaren waved his hand, raising his eyebrows slightly. "I don't have any idea what you can say against all that. But if you have a plea to make, Mr. Gideon, please, make it at once."

Virth looked at him for several moments. "Sir," he spoke at last, "I have no defense except this: that the crown is not yours and never has been. It belongs to no one in this room, no one even awake in our country. Any crimes I may have committed against you were therefore not against the crown and cannot be judged by it."

Aaren smirked. "Add insolence to his list then, and sentence him for a hanging."

Aida gasped. Aaren glanced at her, his face tightening with an almost worried expression, then quickly back to the herald who was reaching for a quill and ink. She turned to face Virth. He smiled pleasantly at her, seemingly not the least surprised. Well, he'd been counting down to it and relaxing. Still, she didn't see how he could be so at peace with it all.

"Well then, the sentence shall be carried out immediately," Aaren stood up, glancing at the men and Aida around him. "Come, all of you." He started down the dais, taking each step slowly at a leisurely pace. The men stood up and followed him.

Aida hesitated, still looking at Virth. She wanted to...she felt like she should talk to him, before he died, though she didn't know what she would say. He was watching her expressionlessly.

Aaren turned around quickly, snapping his head back to look at her. "Aida, come." His tone was hard and icy again, commanding her to listen to him, not allowing for any disagreement.

Virth nodded to her slightly, and she started forward, walking down the steps. She came at last to the back of the party, and they all started walking again. The guards followed slightly behind with Virth walking between them.

She found herself walking next to the younger man, who glanced down at her and smiled again. "I hope you don't mind His Majesty. I know he can seem rather overbearing, but he's not always like this. He can be quite pleasant if he chooses."

Aida opened her mouth, then shut it, looking awkwardly at the floor. She didn't know what to say, especially about Aaren. She'd thought she knew him so well, but she was finding she didn't know him at all. And this man, he spoke to her like she was...not a prisoner, but a sister almost or another member of the court.

"Oh, I suppose you already know that. You do seem to have something between the two of you. Were you once lovers and found yourselves in a quarrel?" he laughed then and shrugged slightly. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to pry. I hope you and Aaren work it out, whatever it is."

Aida glanced up at him, observing him curiously. His manner was so different from the other men, all walking past her without so much as a second glance.

"I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Count Rivion, but please, just Rivion. And what is your name?"

"Aida," she managed to say, hardly more than a squeak. Didn't he know...didn't he know who she was? Didn't they all? The other men avoided looking at her entirely, or if they did it was only a quick glance and then away again, not daring to keep their eyes on her for more than a second. They knew, probably. But Rivion, she wondered about him.

They walked down several hallways, all of them full of finery: old portraits and tapestries, statues of gold filigree. Finally they reached two huge arced doors. There were even more guards there, who flung open the doors for them as sunlight blasted into their eyes, bright and glaring, like an arrow of light shot at them.

There was a pavilion for them to sit on, with a throne in the middle, once again surrounded by smaller chairs for the rest of them. A few twenty feet in front of them was another platform, but this one was the gallows, with the long rope hanging down.

Virth was led there; Aida watched as they confiscated his coat, just as he'd suspected, and tied his hands behind his back. She was just taking her seat, beside Aaron and Rivion, as he stepped up to the platform. The guard behind him put the noose around his neck, fitting it tightly, forcing the knot down further and further, cutting into Virth's neck.

Aida took a breath, pursing her lips. She didn't want to watch. She thought about turning the other way; no one would stop her. But...perhaps that would be unjust of her. Virth had faced his death without flinching; she felt she should do the same. Maybe he would want her to bear witness to his death. She could tell his friend then, Alexander Alexander, more accurately what had happened.

So she watched. She watched as the wood he was standing on gave way beneath him. He dropped down, but not hard or fast enough. His neck didn't break, and he hung strangling there, strung up like something to dry, swinging like a rag doll. His feet kicked periodically, almost in spasms, forcefully pushing into the air. His face turned pale and drawn. Slowly, she able to hear choking noises as his air was cut off from his lungs.

She felt like crying and felt one small tear drip down her cheek. She glanced at Aaren beside her. He was watching without emotion, regarding the scene like an everyday occurrence, rather than the horror that it was. She looked to her other side, at Rivion. A delicate frown furrowed his brow slightly; he looked concerned, though not enough to act upon it. The other men were mostly the same, unmoved by the death they watched.

She glanced around her for someone, anyone who could stop it. There was no one, only the guards, who looked bored at most. A sob tore through her body, shaking her. She barely knew him, but even so, she couldn't stand watching him die. She didn't think she'd be able to watch anyone die; it was all too awful. She recalled him helping her to pick herself off the ground, his thoughtful expression as he regarded her, and she couldn't stand it. Those small, almost minuscule moments with him had gotten to her.

Rivion glanced at her and gave her a sympathetic look. "Was he a friend of yours?" he whispered quietly.

Aida didn't reply. She stared at Virth. He was staring back at her, his eyes eerily green and still. Occasionally, he'd blink, though, as he seemed to shiver all over and swing back and forth on the rope. He did it again. Her hands were trembling, tiny shakes forcing them back and forth. Virth stopped, as did her hands.

When he did it again, she noticed more. Her hands shook at the same time he shook, moving almost exactly the same way, in scale to his spasms, and they stopped in the exact same moment. Then he was still for a long time. She watched him carefully, eyes fixed upon him for any sign of movement. None came. He didn't blink, didn't lift a finger.

Aaren stood up. "It's done," he said with a resonant finality.

The other men stood up as well.

Aida stayed seated where she was, tears dripping freely down her cheeks. Vaguely, she was aware that someone was standing over her. She glanced up at Aaren. His hand touched hers briefly, and calmed her quivering.

"Aida, I'm...sorry," he said quietly, as tender as he'd ever been.

She looked at him, felt herself melting. She looked back at Virth. He swung slightly, but with the wind. It was too cruel. She pulled her hand forcefully from Aaren. "Get away from me!" she practically screamed at him.

His hand flew out, colliding with her face in an instant.

She winced as he turned away from her, walking the other way. She looked back at Virth, taking a sharp breath in. She wanted to hear that long story. She wanted him to live. _Virth, please don't die._ She shut her eyes.

There was white light all around her and a kind of soft, calming melody drifted over the breeze. The sun was warm all around her, shining from all directions it seemed. There were lilacs and daisies, all kinds of wildflowers in the green field she stood in. The sky was sapphire and not blotted out by any smoke or buildings. The land was pure and untainted.

There was a crashing sound and a thud. She opened her eyes and saw that the gallows was practically broken in half, apparently from Virth's fall. He was lying on the ground. The rope was broken, severed in the middle.

Faster than anyone could even turn to look, Aida ran, avoiding the rising commotion behind her, the men starting to speak and shout. Her legs carried her swiftly over the distance, cutting it in half and half again until finally she was there.

"Virth," she knelt beside him and loosened the knot around his neck, before flinging the rope away.

He looked up at her, his gaze thoughtful again. "My, you _are_ innocent. I've never seen that before." He got to his knees and then to his feet, looking back at the pavilion.

"What do you mean, I'm 'innocent'? You keep saying that!" Aida said, practically shouting at him. She was glad he was alive, but his intellectual approach to...well, everything, was beginning to annoy her. "And what just happened anyway? Did you...cut the rope down, somehow?" She didn't see how it could be her doing, though that seemed to be what he was insinuating. She was too far away!

The guards were running towards them.

Virth grinned at her, an amused expression coming across his face. He almost looked like he was laughing at her. "I'm not that innocent. As to your other questions...once again, I don't have the time or will to answer them. If we were planning on living much longer, and it would be a waste not to, considering that I was very nearly just dead, then we really should be going somewhere less violent."

Aida glanced back at the guards. They were halfway to them; within a moment they'd be there. Some of them had their swords out, held outward and pointed at them; others only held rope. She froze, with maybe even more horror than she'd felt when they'd forced her out of the cell, to the trial and to Aaren. Now there was the terror of the dark and the cutting, but also Virth's hanging. She couldn't face either one again. "Is there anything you can do?" she asked, glancing backward at Virth.

He rolled his eyes at her and reached his arm out, placing his hand on her shoulder. His grip was firm and pressing down tightly, reassuring. "Close your eyes," he whispered harshly, close to her ear now.

She obeyed, and they stood in a land of shades of grey.

* * *

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	4. Chapter 4

She stood on a rocky precipice, dark stony grey. She was facing outward from the drop off, overlooking the world as far as she could see it. It was a long way down; when she dared to drop her eyes, she felt dizzy from the enormity of the huge height. If she fell, she'd be smashed against the rocks down there, dashed into a red and bloody mess.

Shivering slightly, she took a quaking step backward, away from the edge. Virth was there, facing the opposite direction. She felt her shoulders brush his back; he seemed to stiffen slightly at the touch, but she felt calmer knowing she wasn't alone.

"Virth," she breathed, "where are we?" A moment ago, she'd been watching the guards rush at them, and now here they were, standing on a cliff. It was bizarre, to say the least.

"We're right here," he said simply, "on the edge of the cliff."

Aida gave an exasperated glance backward, before turning back to look at the land below them. If she looked forward enough, instead of down, the sight didn't bother her. The land stretched on forever, all the way out to the sky, but it appeared entirely made up of cold rocks and dry, withered grass.

A gust of wind blasted across the ground, stirring dust and dirt from the cliff, sweeping off the edge and into the air. It was grey, too, as the rocks were grey, and the land beneath was all grey. The sky was lighter but not blue, more of a murky off-white.

It wasn't entirely bleak, however. She could see, a long distance away, a patch of green, a forest maybe and beyond was a crystal blue lake. And when she turned to the east, the sight took her breath away with its beauty. It was all golden there; the clouds scattered the light from the sun, turning to patches of glowing yellow mist. In the middle of it all, the sun broke through the clouds, streaking light downward, where the land became a rainbow of vivid color amidst the grey.

It looked like another world, though, hiding in its own corner, unreachable. Everything else was dusty and dreary. There were hardly any plants, no people or animals to speak of; it was almost desolate. No splashes of color met her eyes, no warm light touched her skin. The sun hung only over that tiny part of the landscape, but it was beautiful. A golden dawn. The Breaking Dawn.

"Virth!" Aida exclaimed. "Is that...is it the Breaking Dawn?" She didn't know if the Breaking Dawn actually was a real dawn, or a place like that, but the sun shining that way made her think of it. It was a beautiful name anyway, for a 'worthless ideal' as Virth called it.

She could feel his breath on her neck as he turned to look, drawing short when he saw the bright sunlight breaking through the clouds. For a moment he said nothing, just staring. "I suppose it is," he said at last. "Or at least a picture of what it could be, if it ever was."

Aida turned her head, almost straining her neck trying to see him. Something in his tone made her want to see his face, to know what he was thinking. But he was still directly behind her, and she could only glimpse his shoulder and black hair.

She thought about asking him more, but it was so silent. No birds sang, or animals moved; even the wind had stopped blowing now. She didn't feel like she should interrupt it all.

Finally Virth turned, and walked a few steps to be beside her, facing the same way again. "I don't want to stay here long," he said. "There are things...people...I wouldn't want to see again."

Aida glanced out again. She didn't see any people, or any signs of them, but she supposed Virth knew what he was talking about, more than she did. "Where will we go?" she asked. "To the Breaking Dawn?"

Virth snorted and turned to look at her. "No. It's not a place like that. From here, it'll always be there on the horizon like that, I suppose, but it doesn't give you an adequate idea of what it really is. Nothing will, probably, until you hear that long story."

Aida crossed her arms, turning more directly toward him. "And are you going to tell me that story yet? I think I deserve to know after all...this," she said, waving her wrist in the air.

He smiled, amused. "I will, sometime."

She raised her eyebrows, not sure if she believed him. He hadn't been much for explaining anything yet. She didn't even know how they'd gotten here. She didn't know why she trusted him, except that they seemed to have wound up with common enemies somehow. "Promise you'll tell me, and soon?"

"I don't like promises. It seems presumptuous to promise someone something when you have no idea what will happen in the next moment. I could fall down dead at any given time, and then the promise would be broken, and I wouldn't be a man of my word anymore."

He turned then and started walking around the edge of the cliff, glancing downward to observe the terrain. He'd stop and frown and scratch his hair for a moment, and then continue on, walking all the way around the edge.

Aida watched him, frowning a bit herself. Virth was puzzling to her. He wasn't like anyone she'd ever met before. But then, her life didn't seem to be turning out like anyone's she'd ever met either. "That seems a rather morbid way of looking at it," she replied at last.

Virth glanced at her briefly, before looking down again. "Maybe," he said, "but it's true. I've seen too many similar circumstances to think that promises actually mean anything. You die, or you just break them anyway."

"They mean something to me," she argued, but quietly.

He sighed, turning away from his cliff and walked toward her. He stood a few feet from her, looking her squarely in the eye. "I'll make an exception for you, since you think it means so very much. But only because you saved my life." He dropped to one knee on the ground in front of her and held out his right hand. "I promise you, Aida, that soon I will tell you the rather long and involved story of the Breaking Dawn, the Innocent, and the Ageless."

She smiled and took his hand hesitantly; he shook it firmly before getting back to his feet. "You didn't have to be that elaborate about it," she said. "I just wanted a simple promise."

"But promises are never simple, Aida."

She was surprised by his tone. It had seemed like dramatic theatrics, but he sounded so serious. And when she looked in his green eyes, he suddenly seemed very old to her, weathered through hard years.

After a moment, though, he smiled broadly again. "Well, we should be going. Come on." He walked a few paces, to the edge of the cliff, where it dropped off into thin air, and stopped.

She walked towards him, but stopped before she reached the edge, staying several paces away from him, where she had land on all sides of her. "Is there a way down?" she asked. "Are we going to have to climb?"

He shook his head. "No, we're not climbing. And no, there's no way down either."

Aida arched her brows. "Then...what are we doing?" she questioned, glancing down again. It still made her dizzy. She was beginning to want off the cliff more and more, and fast.

"We're jumping," Virth said simply, glancing down again. He looked for several moments, then back up at her and smiled.

"I'm not jumping!" Aida practically screamed. "You'd have to be insane to jump off there. Have you looked down there? It's—it's—"

"A long way down," Virth offered. "I know it is, but it's also the only way out of here. And I really don't think you want to stay here forever. So we have to jump."

"And get out of here by dying!" Aida shouted, though he hadn't raised his voice at all. She wanted to yell. She wanted to scream. And most of all, she wanted away from here, not by jumping off the cliff. Virth was starting to scare her, and the world was starting to scare her, and she almost wished she'd never agreed to close her eyes and come here with him. But she really didn't want him dead, and she supposed her position in life wouldn't have been much better with the guards, though they weren't trying to make her jump off a cliff, at least.

"Aida, you won't die," Virth spoke slowly in an explanatory tone. "You won't even hit the bottom. All you have to do is open your eyes when you jump."

She stared. He was crazy; she was sure of it now. She sat determinedly on the ground, falling down onto the hard rock. He couldn't drag her this way; he couldn't make her go. "My eyes _are_ open, Virth, and I'm not jumping off that cliff!"

Virth sighed, annoyed. "No, you only think your eyes are open. You think you're here with your eyes open because you're seeing all this. But you don't have to look at something to see it. But you are here, with your eyes open, in a sense. In a larger sense than would sometimes happen because we had to escape the guards, but we can't stay here. Jumping off the cliff will take us to the other side."

Aida glanced up from the rocks she was running her hand over, cool beneath her touch. The other side, he'd said that before in the room they were in together, when he was talking about escaping. "The other side?"

He walked a few steps towards her and squatted down to her level. "The other side will be back to the world we're all used to living in...well, most of us anyway. We'll be away from the gallows, though, away from the palace."

"Can I go home?" she asked, looking him sincerely in the eye. She thought of home, golden fields of barley and rye, the stream and forest, her brothers. She missed them all. She wondered if they missed her as well.

Virth pursed his lips and shook his head. "I'm sorry, but no. You'd be found too easily there. You don't want to go back to Aaren, Aida, you don't."

She looked from him back down to the rocks and continued feeling the rough surface. Aaren. She thought of him checking over her, him apologizing to her, then him killing Virth with no emotion in the action. She thought of Virth asking her to jump off a cliff.

"Aida, I promised you I'd tell you that story, and you know I don't normally promise anything. I'm going to tell you, and I wouldn't ask you to jump off a cliff now if I didn't think we'd both live to hear it."

She smiled, then laughed at how absurd her life had gotten, dwindling on the fact that she hadn't heard a story she was promised to be told.

Virth was watching her carefully, still pursing his lips.

She stood up, rising quickly to her feet. She took a step towards him, then looked down and faltered slightly. She stopped and stood quivering there. She couldn't move from that spot, let alone jump all the way off!

He was in front of her, closer now; she focused on his eyes instead of the bottom of the abyss. They were green, like leaves and trees, living things. "Do you trust me?" he asked softly.

Aida bit her lip and thought about it. She shook her head finally, slightly. "I don't know," she said honestly. "I trust you more than I trust Aaren, but how much that is..." she shrugged. "I can't say for sure."

"Good enough." Virth nodded and reached forward to grab her hand, holding it tightly in his own. He took a step closer to the edge.

She followed, then stopped, staring transfixed downward. She couldn't do it. She couldn't take another step. It was too far down, she was going to die, they would both smash into the bottom, she wasn't cut out for this kind of thing—but Virth wasn't trying to make her move. It suddenly struck her that he was standing still in front of her. That was odd. When she looked up at him, he was also staring, but upward and behind her. His expression struck an entire range of feelings, from elated to terrified, but mostly just shocked.

She swung her head around to look. Above the cliff, the mountain continued up high into the sky. Standing on another outcrop farther up was a young woman, a beautiful young woman. Her hair was golden like the sun, her eyes were a deep, watery blue, and behind her—or perhaps radiating out of her—was a light like the sun spreading its dawn over the horizon.

In the next moment, however, Aida tripped off the cliff. Virth had jumped, evidently, all the while keeping his grip tight around her wrist and she was forced to practically dive off after him.

"Open your eyes!" he shouted at her, over the noise of falling, wind rushing past them and rippling in harsh gusts over her skin.

Surprisingly, as she stared at the sharp wind and the passing cliff-face, she did.


	5. Chapter 5

For a few moments, she was soaring as she ripped through the air, arms spread wide. She was free-falling through swift, brisk air, and she'd never felt so alive. She could see things, too, rushing past her vision almost in a blur, bright things. The sun hanging as a bright golden ball in the blue sky, mountains standing purple and majestic, trees growing tall into the air, and flowers dancing in the breeze. It all felt light and joyful, like summer days at home, like that light land, like...the garden at the palace.

Then she stood there, in that garden where Aaren had asked her to be his queen, and the scent of lilacs had drifted over the breeze. But it was different now, a less friendly place. A grey cloud shifted its position to block out the sun, and shadows stretched over the world as if to encompasse it. The breeze felt cold and sharp, and in the dark, the twined flowers could seem to twist into spider webs.

The sky was entirely blocked out then, not even a hint of blue was visible through the clouds. There was a streak of white lightning, breaking in a jagged line through the sky and a crack like the earth could simply open up at any moment and swallow her.

The flowers turned to thorns, gracing those cold, marble statues with cascading, blood-red roses. The air felt like winter now, like tripping through the snow without a wrap to warm her shoulders, in the dark of night. She took a sharp breath in and noticed that she was all alone; Virth was nowhere to be seen.

Another flash revealed Aaren standing in front of her, staring with a hard expression, jaw squared tightly away, eyes revealing no hint of caring.

"Aaren." She took a step backward, swallowing hard. She only felt sharp thorns digging into her skin.

Aaren took a step toward her. She noticed something odd then. His eyes—they didn't move. He didn't blink, didn't look at anything but her. He stared with a fierce intensity, but still a cold, expressionless gaze. Like someone killed in the midst of a raging battle, he watched with dead eyes.

She felt her heart beating hard within her chest, pounding. She brought her right hand to it, felt the hard pulsing, tried to calm herself.

Aaren kept walking toward her, without speaking, without looking around; the roses, the statues, everything, was lost to his dead gaze. There was nowhere for her to go. She could feel the thorns, and she felt like they were closing in on every side of her, stretching, growing, piercing her skin. And Aaren, foremost, in front of her.

When he was close enough, he grabbed her hand, pulling it away from her chest and pressing it to his own. She felt the smooth linen of his shirt and his muscles beneath, but where his heart should have been, she felt nothing.

She pursed her lips and looked away from her hand, to his eyes.

"I have no heart, Aida," he said, answering her unasked question. "I need your heart. I need your heart to live."

She shook her head slowly from side to side, tried to step away and was reminded painfully that the thorns surrounded her. Her breathing came faster. She couldn't pull away; she was trapped. She closed her eyes, feeling a few tears spill out of her eyes and trickle down her face.

Then she remembered:

_She watched the people, walking past her, up and down the streets. Most were in a rush, some sort of crazed panic as they ran to and fro beneath the dark and spilling sky. She adjusted the large, bulky box in her arms, glancing downward at the colors inside._

"Flowers for sale!" she shouted into the crowd, trying to raise her voice above the humming din of the people. "Only twopence!"

Some of them glanced at her, arching their brows or lowering them, lips tightening and pursing together. She adjusted the box, lowering the top so they could see the cut flowers resting inside; they only frowned in return.

With a sigh, she glanced up at the cloudy, grey sky. Raindrops spattered onto her face, cool and wet. Her hair hung in damp, wet clumps on her neck, and her skirt was coated in muck at least five inches deep from walking here, through soaked fields and runny streets.

She didn't mind, though. It was only a gentle spring rain. The world was just being washed, cleaned. Her flowers were fresh, with wet droplets sitting on them, gracing the pink and white petals with sparkling specks of water. The cold drops trickling down her skin only made her feel like dancing.

No one else seemed to see it that way, though. She turned her attention to the mad throng of people again, feeling dazed by their movement. They all ran like in a fit, with no direction or purpose, just fleeing. They seemed like leaves, floating on the stream, thrown by whatever current or wind caught them. They wouldn't buy her flowers, not today.

"I'll buy one."

She glanced up in surprise. A young man stood in front of her; he was close, and she wondered that she hadn't noticed him before now. His hair was a bit damp like hers, but still golden in color and his eyes were like the sky on a clear day. He was grinning broadly.

Her fingers fumbled as she reached for a flower, resting the box on her hip and using one hand to pull out a pink flower with petals shaped like tiny hearts pointed outward and smiling. She handed it to him, her hand shaking slightly.

He took it, still smiling, and handed her a shiny coin, which she tucked into her pocket. "Nice weather, isn't it?" he asked, glancing at the sky. "The rain adds a little something to the air. Something fresh."

After a moment, he turned to look at her again, and she looked away, realizing she was almost gaping. He didn't seem to mind, though. "You look rather fresh yourself," he said. "What's your name?"

"Aida," she replied. "Yours?"

"Aaren," he said with a smile.

She looked at Aaren now, remembering that bright-eyed man who smiled at her and bought a flower, when no one else would. He looked pale now, sick almost. His eyes—they didn't scare her as much now, but they made her want to cry.

"I need your heart, Aida," he stressed again. "I can't live...without it."

She nodded slightly, lost in his blue eyes, in the sky that they used to be. He needed to live. If that meant he needed her heart...then he could have it.

He smiled, like he did when he bought her flower, but there was something almost too bright in his eyes. From his pocket, he pulled out the knife, sharp and pointed. She remembered the blood on the knife back in the cell—her blood. He rose the blade into the air, aiming it towards her.

She screamed and fell back, and the world faded away into darkness.

Virth stepped out of the shadows, into the pale moonlight, looking at the golden-haired man in front of him, with a knife still raised.. "Her heart isn't yours to have, Aaren," he said.

Aaren turned around to face him. He raised his eyebrows slightly once he recognized him, looking him over from head to toe, smirking. "Virth Gideon, is it? I wouldn't have expected you. You seemed more the mangy, dog-type when I watched you hang. Well, they say life's full of surprises." He glanced backward and down at the girl, lying unconscious on the ground, framed by thorns. "As for her heart, no, I suppose it isn't. But I'll have it all the same."

"Not here, you won't," Virth replied. He stepped forward and around Aaren, pausing between the man and the girl, separating them. He bent down and pressed his fingers to her neck, feeling for a pulse. It was slow and faint, but steady. He put an arm under her knees and one behind her back. He lifted her, standing up again and turning back around.

"You shouldn't be here, Aaren. You don't belong here," he said. He glanced down at Aida in his arms, then at Aaren, with eyes focused entirely upon her. "You can't harm her here, so go back. Go back to where you belong."

Aaren glanced up into Virth's eyes again. He frowned, lines creasing his golden brow, lips thinning, but after a moment he turned and began to walk the other way. He stopped, though, after a steps, turning his head and smiling. "You might rule here, Virth, but you can't forget who you really are. Or, perhaps, put more accurately, what you've done. Some ties are binding."

Virth felt his arms tighten around Aida, tensing almost involuntarily, but he kept his face like stone. "Yes, like your ties to the real world, which, if you remember, you were returning to," he replied.

Aaren smiled. "We'll meet again, Virth Gideon," he said, before walking off into the shadows.

"I look forward to it," he called after.

* * *

Aida woke beneath towering trees and Virth, hovering over her but looking in the other direction. The sun shone high above them in the sky, but the darkness of dreams was still near to her, clinging to the corners of her mind. She remembered...meeting Aaren for the first time; she could still recall it fondly, but then...she almost agreed to give him her heart.

Starting at that thought, her hand flew to her chest. Her heartbeat was still there; she'd made it away from him unscathed, once again. But how much longer?

Virth turned, hearing her movement, and looked relieved to see her eyes open. He gave her a half-smile, though he kept glancing around, searching through the trees and undergrowth. "Aida," he said, "you're awake. Thank goodness."

She stared at the man. She almost wanted to cower and hide away from him again, because he was the one who'd made her jump off the cliff and that brought her to Aaren. She'd thought they were getting out safe, but she'd been taken back there again, to the garden that turned to marble and the thorns and roses.

But Virth only looked concerned. Lines of worry creased his mouth and forehead, as his green eyes looked her over. "Are you alright?" he asked, gnawing his lip.

She kept looking at him. His hair was black, not that perfect gold of Aaren's. His eyes were green, not blue like the sky, or like ice. And they were living eyes, not the cold dead she'd seen in Aaren. Finally, she nodded and sat up, somewhat shakily. "What...happened?"

Virth gave a slight huff as he shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wasn't expecting...that. It shouldn't have happened, theoretically. I've never seen that happen, but then, I've never seen anyone quite like you." He frowned at her slightly, appearing deep in thought. "I can only presume that Aaren is very...close to your heart and therefore must be trying to bridge the gap between your heart and the world in general...a gap that he should never be able to bridge."

He looked at her more closely now, and Aida began to feel almost intimidated under his gaze. She felt like he was trying to search her out, learn exactly what was in her mind, in her heart. She squirmed in the grass.

"What exactly was your relationship with Aaren, prior to...his trying to cut out your heart?"

Aida looked down at the grass, moved her hands to twist some of it around her fingers. She felt a blush rising to her cheeks. "I...loved him, or at least...I thought I did. But it seems like I really don't know him at all now." She glanced up at Virth, waiting for him to speak, reprimand her probably. Loving Aaren seemed...pathetic now, and she couldn't imagine Virth thinking otherwise, seeing as it was Aaren who had him sentenced to hanging.

He only watched her, though, peering at her with somewhat puzzled eyes. "Well, that does complicate things," he said after a moment. "I'd begun to expect as much, however. You don't...really love him, though, do you?"

Aida pursed her lips. She couldn't help thinking of meeting him, all the smiles and laughter and warm days, but also of the terror, the fear she felt thinking of him now. "I don't know," she said honestly.

"You can't, or he'd already have you," Virth said. "If he was in your heart..." he trailed off with a frown.

"In my heart?"

Virth got to his feet, brushing grass and dirt off his dark clothing. "Essentially, what we doing when we jumped off the cliff was falling through a...chain of hearts. Aaren would have destroyed us if he was in yours. He was still a bit too close for my taste, but...he couldn't harm us."

Aida pursed her lips, remembering Aaren's dead eyes and his silent chest, no heartbeat within it. "Virth!" she nearly jumped to her feet and grabbed onto the man's hand, gripping it tightly in her own. "Aaren—he...he doesn't have a heart. He held my hand to his chest and...there was no heartbeat there. There was just...silence." She felt tears of fear running down her cheeks again, but she ignored them, staring with intensity into Virth's eyes, waiting for an answer. She wanted him to tell her that it wasn't true, and Aaren was only fooling, and everything would be alright.

Virth only looked at her—the way you look at a child who suddenly realizes that life isn't all it should be—with pity. "That's why he would have destroyed us," he uttered quietly.

Aida released his hand, letting it drop back to his side. It wasn't the answer she wanted. She turned her eyes downward at the ground and the soft moss and grass growing there. She felt more tears falling down her cheeks. She brushed them away swiftly, annoyed and ashamed. "This doesn't seem like the same world I knew," she said, feeling tired and broken.

"It's the world you never knew you lived in," Virth replied, still looking at her. "But you can only face it or turn the other way and let it take you. You'd regret the latter in the end, I know."

She took a deep breath in and looked up again at Virth, then around them. The trees stood tall and proud; their boughs were all stretched up to touch the blue sky. Golden sunlight streamed through the thick canopy, warm and bright. "So is this the other side?" she asked.

Virth smiled. "It's a much broader term than you might imagine. This is it, yes, but it could be other places as well. Anywhere, really." He glanced around as well, peering through the thick greenery, searching again.

"I still don't understand half of what you've been saying," Aida replied. "But isn't someone supposed to meet us here?"

He laughed slightly, more of a throaty snort. "You'll understand eventually. And yes, someone should be here. I was hoping for Alexander, but I think he'd have made himself known by now." He glanced around more.

"Could you tell me that story, while we're waiting?" Aida asked, turning with a slight smile.

Virth took a deep breath. "I suppose I could start it, though I doubt I'll finish in time." He frowned for a moment, and looked at his hands, took another breath and spoke, "It began in the heart of a beautiful princess called—" his sentence was cut short as an arrow sliced through the air between them, whizzing with a small hum. It was followed by an entire stream of arrows, shooting in a long vertical line between them.


	6. Chapter 6

Aida felt her breath draw short, turning to glance at the arrows that flew past them, into the trees beyond. They struck a tree only a few feet behind her and Virth, in one long, perfectly straight line. She glanced at Virth; he'd stepped away from the line of fire slightly, towards his left. A small frown graced his forehead, pushing his dark brows over his eyes.

"Is it Aaren's men?" she asked fearfully. If they came again...they'd take her away, into the dark, and she had a feeling they'd be rougher with her this time. They'd guard her more heavily, wouldn't allow her to sit on the dais with Aaren; he'd take her heart this time for sure.

Virth turned his head toward her, the left corner of his mouth twitching, only barely distinguishable. He shook his head. "No, if it was them they wouldn't bother with warning shorts." He turned back, looking into the woods, straining his eyes to see through the brush and the thick, verdant trees growing around them.

Warning shots? From who, and why? They hadn't done anything. She'd thought—this was the other side; they were supposed to be safe here! Were they to be killed, unmercifully shot down after only narrowly escaping death from the king and his men?

The king. It felt better to call him that, to push it away. Kings could be cruel. Truly, she'd always been taught that kings were just and good; they did what was best and ruled for the benefit of their people. But kings could be oppressive, too, and he was one of those kinds of kings. Not Aaren—the man who'd bought a flower from her in the rain—but his highness, his majesty, the king.

"Drop yer' weapons now, ya' scalawags, tresspassin' in the king's forest!" The voice came suddenly, shouting through the green bushes. It was a man's voice and with a heavy—and quite obviously false—country accent.

Virth rose one eyebrow, lips beginning to curl into a languid smile. "We don't have any weapons, Tomas, certainly not after coming from the king's dungeons. And you would do well to remember that you're also trespassing in the king's forest—living in it, to be precise."

There was a deep, hearty laugh, the sound of heavy feet prodding through leaves and underbrush, and a large man—Tomas, she supposed—walked out of the trees. He looked old—sixty, at least, Aida thought—and had a bushy, salt and pepper beard with matted hair to match, complete with green and golden leaves stuck throughout. They looked as if they'd taken root in his scalp and grew there now, without him ever even noticing.

The man didn't look like he could have shot all those arrows. He didn't carry a bow, or a weapon of any kind, nor did he look like an archer. His arm muscles weren't thick enough, and even if he could shoot, there was no way he could have shot _that_ many arrows, all at once, in _that_ straight of a line. There didn't appear to be anyone else, though; no one stepped forward, and there was no noise from behind him.

"Sharp as ever, Mr. Gideon," Tomas replied, dropping the accent but still speaking loudly, as if he thought to shout in order to hear himself. "I'm glad to see your senses haven't dulled whilst you were in the company of the king. They say spending time with that man can do something to you, turn the sharpest minds to mush, it would."

For a half second, Aida opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it. She couldn't defend Aaren anymore. She was in the company of those who thought ill of him, and the company outnumbered herself. Heavens, _she_ thought ill of him! He'd tried to cut out her heart, for goodness' sake; why couldn't she get that through her head?

"I would be more inclined to say that he inspires terror rather than a lack of intelligence, but I suppose it's all in your point of view," Virth was saying dryly now. He took a step towards the man, then gave a cursory glance backward at her.

She looked at him, then quickly away again.

Tomas made a grunting sound and waved his hand, as if to shove the matter away entirely. "Anyhow, Alexander sent me with regrets that he couldn't come himself. He felt you fall or land or whatever it is he feels, the strange lad, and he would have come, but he's been tied up with lodging business all day. Poor lad, he can't stand cutting down the trees, but he has to if we're going to have a roof over our heads when the next rains come."

"Did the roof fall through again, then?" Virth asked conversationally.

"Oh, aye!" Tomas replied enthusiastically. "The roof's always falling through and this time hard. I think Alexander finally learned his lesson. He's got to fix it properly, not just fill it in with whatever wood's lying around. We need real logs, not just twigs falling down on our heads!"

"He's attached to the trees," Virth said absently, scanning the trees around him, looking through the dense vegetation.

"That he is. I oft think it's more his forest than it is the king's. I s'pose rightly, it'd be your forest, though, or your world."

Virth snapped to attention then, standing straighter and eyeing Tomas intently. "It's not my world," he spoke thickly. His voice wasn't raised necessarily but low and fierce. "I wouldn't claim it to be, nor would I allow anyone else to claim it to be."

Aida glanced at him, observing how tense he looked, feeling confused. His world? Why would it be his world? Just because he was Virth Gideon didn't make him...the ruler of the world. She didn't know what Tomas was implying, but Virth seemed to have a definite aversion to it, and she had a feeling they both knew something she didn't. It probably had to do with that story he _still_ hadn't told her, she thought dourly.

Tomas looked taken aback for a moment or so, taking a step backward, jaw going slack. After a moment, he shrugged. "Anyhow," he went on at last, "he sent me instead. We fired because of her," he turned then, suddenly eyeing Aida with an almost threatening air. "Who is she?"

Aida swallowed and took a step back, suddenly wishing she was very far away. She didn't want to be with people who shot arrows at her and questioned who she was, what she was doing here. She wanted to be somewhere else, somewhere nice, without arrows and strange men trying to cut her heart out of her chest. With Virth maybe, but not his friends. Maybe nobody at all.

Virth glanced from her to Tomas and back to her. He smiled then, though only slightly, and it appeared almost more a grimace than a reassuring smile. He took a step towards her and reached to put his right hand on her shoulder, pressing down slightly.

He spoke to her first, gesturing at the man standing in front of them, eyeing her somewhat testily, "Aida, this is Tomas. He's Alexander's uncle."

Tomas nodded his greeting, and Virth turned more to face him, pushing on Aida's shoulder more, nudging her forward. "Tomas, this is Aida. I met her in the dungeon. She saved me from hanging." He smiled again, that almost-grimace smile, then glanced around and spoke in a low voice, "Aaren wanted her heart. They were lovers, before."

At the last statement, Tomas's eyebrows shot up, halfway up his forehead it seemed. "We can't bring her to the lodge!" he spoke in a loud whisper, as though he thought she couldn't hear him, all the while glancing at her like she was a ghost, or some strange specimen he'd never seen before. "We should have shot her when we had the chance. She'll lead the king to us, no doubt."

Aida blanched, again wishing she was somewhere else. She didn't want to be thought of as an aid to the king, and she didn't want to be shot by people who thought of her as an aid to the king. They were wrong about her, though. She wouldn't lead Aaren to them. She knew what he was capable of now, and wouldn't wish that on anyone. He did seem to manipulate her easily, however.

Virth's jaw twitched slightly, jerking his entire face towards the corner of his chin. He said nothing for a moment, then looked at her, "Stay here," he said. He then stepped towards Tomas, taking the man by the shoulder and leading him a short distance away.

She heard him speak in low tones, though she couldn't make out the words. His eyes stared unyielding into Tomas's, and the rest of his face was set like stone, unmoving. He seemed to speak briefly, but sternly, and before a minute had passed Tomas was nodding eagerly and staring somewhat sheepishly down at his boots.

In a few moments, they returned, both looking somewhat more at ease than before. Tomas walked towards her, smiling politely, if a little begrudgingly. "You can come to the lodge," he said, "but you will be blindfolded." He said the last with a stern glance toward Virth; however, the man made no expression of either approval or disapproval.

Blindfolded. Well, it was better than shot, she supposed, though she still felt a bit reluctant to go with the man at all. One glance at Virth, staring somewhat unnervingly at her, told her she didn't have a choice. She sighed, closing her eyes, and for a moment they were on the cliff again.

_Do you trust me?_

Well, he'd saved her from Aaren several times now; that was something. _Apparently, I have to, _she told him. She opened her eyes and stepped forward. "Fine," was all she said.

Virth smiled, ever so slightly.

Tomas made a slight signal with his arm, and several men stepped out of the trees, holding longbows. They were the ones who'd shot, then. Dressed in earthy browns and greens, they blended into the forest as well as anyone ever could. Most smiled pleasantly and offered their greetings to Virth, exclaiming over the fact that he was alive and hadn't hung as they'd supposed. She noticed something strange in the way they regarded him, though; they respected him, were glad to see him, and yet...they kept their distance, not daring to step too close or break through their pleasantries and into meaningful conversation.

She supposed she understood why; Virth didn't exactly have a warm personality, but she had thought he would talk to his friends at least. Perhaps it would be different with Alexander. In any case, she didn't see him reply to the men with much more than a nod and perhaps two or three words in answer to their questions, but then she wasn't paying a whole lot of attention.

Her eyes were on one of the archers, who stepped forward with a cloth, which he bestowed to Tomas The older man took it and crossed the few paces between them swiftly. "Hope you don't mind the inconvenience," he said civilly, as he covered her eyes and reached to tie the ends behind her head.

"I'm only wondering how I'll keep from tripping myself," she replied into the darkness that overtook her, trying to remain calm. She didn't mind the blindfold, not so much. She knew their reasons for it; they didn't trust her, and frankly, she didn't know if she'd trust herself in their position. But she didn't like the darkness. It reminded her too acutely of the darkness in the room at the palace, the smothering darkness of the knife creeping over her skin, closer and closer to her heart. She balled her fists.

She didn't hear Tomas make any reply to her, only shout to the men, "Let's move out, lads! Back to the lodge!"

She heard footsteps moving away from her and wondered vaguely if they were going to abandon her in the forest with her eyes covered. Maybe that was what Virth had told Tomas when he'd dragged him out of her hearing range; maybe he'd been planning to betray her all along. Maybe she was going to die out here, with no one to care and no one to—

A sturdy hand pressed on her shoulder again, firmly but not heavily.

"Virth?"

"Yes?" he answered her lightly, sounding somewhat amused as usual, as if he were laughing at her inside his head. It annoyed her immensely, but at the same time, she was relieved not to be abandoned, blindfolded, in a strange forest.

"How am I going to walk like this?" she asked at last. She'd seen the forest floor before they'd blindfolded her; it was scattered with thick, fallen branches and trailing brambles full of thorns. She couldn't make her way through without her eyes.

She felt Virth's hand move from her shoulder to grasp her wrist, holding it tightly. "I'll lead you," he said. "Come on." She felt him pull her then, and she heard footsteps beginning to move forward, farther into the forest, no doubt. With a sigh, she followed, allowing herself to go where she was led.

They walked a few smooth, straight steps on what seemed to be level ground, before she was jerked sharply to the left, nearly tripping over her feet as she veered. "What are you doing?" she hissed at Virth, who then resumed walking as normal.

"There was a fallen branch in the way," he said simply. She could almost feel him look back at her, with his nonchalant, amused expression, as if he normally walked that way and found it odd that she didn't.

"You could have warned me."

"I'm sorry," he replied, without a hint of remorse.

She bit back a retort of, "You are not," as he pulled her again, this time to the right. Her whole focus shifted to keeping her feet under her, and this time she managed a bit better. Perhaps Virth was a bit smoother this time as well, tugging her gently rather than suddenly jerking.

"There was a hole in the ground there. I didn't want you to fall in," he explained, as they resumed a normal pace once again.

She said nothing but tried to ignore him as a whole and keep in mind that walking blindfolded through the forest had to be better than having her heart cut out in a dark and dreary dungeon. In time, she turned her attention to other things as well. There were birds here in the forest, chirping merrily to each other and the bushes rustled with life, of scurrying squirrels and other creatures. It was a relief after the silence of the grey land and Aaren's eerie rose garden.

Sometimes the sunlight streamed through the trees and fell across her face as well, and she could see light and brightness beyond her eyelids. It was comforting to know the world wasn't all as dark as it could seem, and the sun did still shine.

Then came the river. Perhaps it was only a stream, but it sounded giant in her ears that had now become her eyes. All she heard was the water rushing past, crashing against the banks and rocks that likely lay there.

"Aida, we're going to cross a log bridge now, to get across the water," Virth spoke a moment later.

She stopped walking. A log bridge? Blindfolded? She'd crossed log bridges and played at the edges of streams, even dared a few strong currents, a million times before, but not when she was blind! She heard the crashing, rushing water, and all she thought of was herself, crashing along with it, fallen in the stream, pulled underwater, and carried away drowning. "I...can't," she said, her voice sounding strangled in her ears.

"I won't let you fall," Virth spoke quietly now, his hand again on her shoulder, pressing in that same spot. He didn't speak in a comforting tone, really, but as if he was simply stating a simple fact, making it sound less of a meaningless reassurance and more of a promise. He hadn't let her down before, with the cliff or with Aaren.

She took a shaky breath and nodded, holding out her hand for him to take it and lead her on. He gripped the palm of her hand, holding it tight. "Take slow, solid steps," he commanded. "I'll be right in front of you, and I won't rush you. Just walk."

She nodded, and they started. She felt a small tug on her hand and put one foot forward. Her foot slipped, falling off the edge, and she realized then how thin the log was they were to walk on; it seemed only slightly wider than her foot, perhaps double the width, at most. She swallowed.

"Find your footing," Virth said. "Get on the middle of the log; then it'll be easy. Just put one foot in front of the other."

She found the middle, the sturdiest part of the log and paused for a moment, just breathing. She put her weight on it, testing, then put the other in front. She was standing on the log completely now, with no ground around her to catch her if she fell.

"Good."

She felt another small tug and put her first foot in front of the other again, and with another tug, the next one. Soon she was walking easily, each step following a slight tug on her hand. Small step by small step, it was easy enough.

It reminded her of...Aaren, once, they went to a waterfall together. He'd made her close her eyes until they were at the edge of the rock, so close that some of the water dripped onto the cleft they stood on, water falling dripping, pouring onto wet stone. Her foot slipped on the wet rock and—

—and she was slipping now. The wood was wet under foot, or maybe she just lost her balance along with her concentration. She'd put her weight on her left foot and it slid forward and sideways, off the log. Her other one wasn't in place to catch her yet. She was wobbling, and then she was edging sideways, feet slipping out from under her.

When she was with Aaren at the waterfall, he was there to catch her. He'd thrown his arms around her and pulled back onto the solid, dry rock. There was no one to catch her now, and she was tumbling into the river. If Aaren was there—but Aaren wasn't there, and if he was he'd want her heart, and she was going to drown and no one would care, and Aaren might as well have her heart anyway, because it just didn't _matter_ anymore!

Then she felt strong hands gripping her waist and pulling her up. She could feel the log touching her feet on it, though she didn't move to put her weight on it yet. "You're fine," Virth said from just in front of her. "I told you I wouldn't let you fall. Just find your balance."

She felt her breath gasp in and rush back out again, and she realized that her head felt funny, and she wanted to scream or cry or burst into hysterics, because she just _wasn't fine. _She was in love with the king, completely and desperately. She'd trusted him with her life and—and she still did, and it was killing her, and he was going to kill her, and she—she—she missed him, so, so much.

"Virth!" she found her voice at last, sounding breathless and strange, "I can't do this! Everywhere I go, everything I do, it reminds me of him. I can't get him out of my mind, and I see his face, and I feel like I'm falling. He scares me so much, but I want him here!"

"Shh!" Virth breathed in a loud, commanding whisper. "Don't say that here. Alexander won't care what's wrong with you, but Tomas is wary of everyone."

She swallowed, remembering the harried old man, likely just waiting on the other side of the bridge.

As if on you cue, the man shouted out to them, louder than was needed, "Are you two coming, or what?"

Virth ignored him, still speaking to her. "Aida, you don't need him. You're still standing on this log; you're not falling, and you're not going to fall. I could make sure of that and carry you across, but I'm not going to, because then you'd never learn how to walk alone. Now you're going to get on your feet and walk across the bridge, and we're going to go to Alexander's roofless lodge together. Now stand."

There was no use arguing with him; the authority he spoke with was undeniable, and somehow she found herself wanting to believe him, wanting to learn how to walk alone. Gritting her teeth, she found her balance on the log again, getting her feet firmly under her in the middle of the log.

Virth's hands loosened around her waist before letting go altogether and grabbing her hand again. "We're almost across. Just take slow, steady steps."

She nodded and felt the small, gentle tug. Just one foot in front of the other. She moved her right foot first, then her left, over and over. It was almost over. They had to be getting close now. She pictured dry, solid land spreading all around her, grass and leaves ready to cushion her if she should fall.

"There, we're on land again."

She took a sharp breath. Already? She didn't think—she wasn't sure if she'd make it, if she'd ever be on flat land again. But she was; they all were, and she'd never felt so relieved

"You made it across," she heard Thomas speak, sounding gruff as ever, annoyed perhaps, at her slowness, "finally. Now c'mon. We're almost there."

She heard the men in front of her start to walk forward again, footsteps tramping firmly into the ground. She paused, letting out her breath, and Virth seemed to want to let her catch her breath a moment, as she didn't feel him pulling..

"Are you alright?" he asked after a moment.

She swallowed. Alright? Well, she'd made it across the bridge herself. She didn't fall in the water; she was still alive, and she hadn't drowned. She still had her heart, and felt that she would never, ever give it away. But on the other hand, if she was confronted with Aaren again, with his convincing eyes and voice, she didn't know what would do. She took a breath. "I don't know," she said at last. "But I think I will be."

"Then let's go."

He grabbed her hand once more, pulling slightly, and they began to walk farther into the forest.

* * *

So, this chapter wasn't terribly interesting. I tried to get the story in this part, but it got long and I wasn't there yet, so...it will be in the next chapter, I'm almost certain! So the next chapter should be much more interesting. But in the meantime, review this one! Love it? Hate it? I want to know!


	7. Chapter 7

She knew they were reaching the lodge before they stopped walking. Their footsteps sped up at first in anticipation, then lagged when they reached it, of course, but it was the sounds she noticed first. There were voices, calling out to one another and laughing, and axes colliding with tree trunks and simply the steady hum of people, moving in and around each other, living. She was in civilization again, and a civilization where no one was going to lock her in the dark or cut out her heart, misleading her with dreams and visions.

Virth's hand slackened around her wrist, before letting go altogether, and the blindfold that was still tied tightly around her eyes was now slid over her forehead and off. She finally stood free.

She watched Tomas in front of her, along with all the archers, move to their places amid the clearing crowded in with trees and dense foliage. Glancing somewhat nervously at Virth, she saw him give her a slight, sideways smile and was glad to see that he remained at her side. She looked around in earnest then, to take in her surroundings.

The thing that struck her most was the life—the trees were spread thick all around them, stretching long limbs closer into the large glade and farther up into the sky, which was nearly crowded out with green, thick leaves, save for one bright blue circle around them.

There was one building towards her left, looking as though it were pushed over to the side of the clearing in unimportance. She supposed it was the lodge, though it truthfully looked little more than a log cabin. It was longer than a cabin would be, but neither very wide nor very tall. The roof seemed slanted towards the middle—what little roof there was anyway. It was mainly only on the edges and tilted precariously downward, with a few threadbare sections of twigs and branches in the middle, all looking ready to fall through at any moment. So Tomas wasn't lying when he said they needed a roof.

The middle of the clearing was filled with more trees, but small ones, like they'd once been cleared out and were now trying to be grown again. They stood at various heights, most only up to her knees, some to her waist, and a very few above her forehead.

There were several men at various places around the edge of the clearing with axes in their hands ready for swinging but paused momentarily to glance at the newcomers. She stepped backward under their curious gazes, staring at her with stern eyes above unkempt beards and hardy muscles. Within a moment, though, most returned to their loud chopping with wood chips flying into the air.

A few more men carried logs out of the forest and to the clearing, and all seemed to be supervised by a young man with light brown hair and skin tanned from warm sunlight, standing towards the edge of the forest and watching with obvious dissatisfaction as some of the tallest trees were destroyed under the sharp bite of the axes.

She saw Tomas walk up to him then, standing for a moment without being acknowledged, before finally tapping the man's shoulder. Finally catching his attention, the older man said a few words, and the younger one turned towards them with a huge grin, seeming almost too large for his narrow face.

Aida glanced at Virth, certain such a smile wasn't meant for her, when she didn't know him at all. Virth's thin-lipped smile looked halfway between amused and annoyed, but the look in his eyes told her there was something more, some recognition and comfortable familiarity...the feeling of friendship, of home.

"Virth!" the man was calling now as he walked swiftly towards them, loud and exuberant. "Virth Gideon, you're alive!" Reaching them now, he stood a few feet away, still grinning broadly. He spoke again, not quite as loud but still with an exaggerated emphasis, "And you know, I was all set planning your funeral. It would have been a truly grand affair. You'd have loved it, I know. I was sitting there, all alone in the lodge, basking in the woodsmoke from the fire, when suddenly—"

His voice was raised to the peak of suspense, when Tomas broke in, interrupting with what he guessed was the completion of the sentence, "You felt him fall alive into the forest?"

Aida looked at the first man, who was blinking at how he'd been cut off. He turned a thoughtful eye towards the ground then, pursing his lips and frowning slightly. "No, actually, that was when the roof fell in and I was rained upon with sticks and dirt and all manner of insects. Most unpleasant, I assure you..." he frowned a bit more, kicking at a pine cone under his foot, before raising his head again, "but, I knew it was a sign! And sure enough, not two days later, here you are! I knew you'd escape somehow, Virth, but I'm still wondering how you did it."

"I had help," Virth replied quietly. She glanced at him and saw his eyes locked on her, startling in his intensity. He turned back to the strange man. "This is Aida," he said, gesturing towards her. "She saved my life."

"The king's lover," Tomas whispered under his breath, soft but fierce all the same, eyeing her with mistrust.

She dropped her eyes to the ground again, letting her hair fall in front of her face. There was no moving past that, was there? She'd be eternally tied to Aaren in their minds, eternally under suspicion. She dared a glance up, though, to look at the man in front of her who'd greeted Virth so boisterously. He still hadn't said his name. Alexander, perhaps?

He coughed slightly then, awkwardly breaking the silence. "The king's lover? An...interesting taste in romance you have, madam."

She looked up at him, feeling pained, wishing she could explain that she didn't know back then, and now she wished a million times over that she'd never had anything to do with Aaren, but...then, that wasn't entirely true. She regretted the days spent with him, but in a way she wanted him back, and...it was all so complex and frustrating, and she had no idea what to say about the matter.

He was staring at her with an undisguised interest in his brown eyes, but also with a slightly softened look, like she was something to be treated gently. He didn't appear unkind really; he actually appeared most kind, but curious.

After a moment, he smiled again, not the huge grin this time but a slow and amiable smile. "I'm very sorry," he said. "That was...a strange interlude, I must say, but I have not yet properly introduced myself."

She looked up at him curiously, and he grinned at her, something almost sly in his brown eyes. He brought his arm out, swiveling it through the air, then crossed it against his chest in a low and sweeping bow. "Alexander Alexander, at your service. I hope you enjoy your stay here, Miss Aida, however long it may be, and you're certainly welcome as long as you like. We may not have much of a roof at the moment, but I assure you, we will. All in good time. And of course, if you want to leave us and go to some other part of the country, you need only ask myself or any one of my men, and we would be glad to escort you there."

She stared at him, feeling slightly at a loss from his long introduction. So he was Alexander Alexander. She met him at last. He was not quite what she expected, but he seemed to be a good man, if a bit elaborate. And...he said she could leave, anywhere in the country? Did that mean they would escort her home as well?

As if sensing her thoughts, Virth spoke in a low and tense voice, "Alexander. She can't leave. Not until the Breaking Dawn at least."

Alexander's face grew immediately more serious, face drawn tight, lips pinched. He looked almost pained as he glanced at her then quickly back to Virth. "I'd guessed as much, if she helped you escape. What...who is she, exactly? King's lover, saved your life, I'm really not sensing the connections here."

Virth cast her a shadowed glance, but she didn't bother looking away or pretending she wasn't listening. This was the important talk, about her, and she wanted to know. After a moment he looked back at the man in front of him. "She didn't know what he was, until he tried to take her heart."

Alexander's eyebrows shot upward. "She's—?"

Virth nodded. Aida frowned slightly, annoyed that everyone seemed to understand what was happening to her except herself. Virth went on, "And she sides with us now, but it's not easy for her."

"Well..." Alexander laughed nervously, halfway forcing it, while it still seemed to sound somewhat natural. "I think we should...talk about this. I'll call a meeting, and we can decide what this means for...all of us. The Breaking Dawn could be much closer than we thought."

Virth held up his hand, stopping the man from going on. "Not yet. Wait until tomorrow." He glanced at her, catching her eye, and gave her half a smile. "I have a story to tell."

Alexander looked between them, seeming to understand the meaning, and nodded. "Very well. We can finish repairs on the roof first, I suppose." He glanced at the workers, still swinging away at the trees and sighed, before turning back to them. "I'll make food for you; you must be hungry. What would you like?"

"Flapjacks," Virth said, reaching his hand out for her to take. "But none of your tea! You make horrible tea!"

Alexander made a face. "Fine, then it's cold spring water for you, Virth!"

"Good, I like spring water. Meanwhile, we'll find a better place to sit than your roofless lodge."

Aida smiled, slipping her hand into Virth's, almost giddy with excitement that he was finally going to tell her the story she'd been waiting to hear for what seemed like aeons now, though it wasn't really much more than a day, she supposed.

"Is this good enough?" Virth asked, glancing around them.

Aida looked around as well, noting the still trees, huge and silent above and all around them, the sunlight drifting down in beams of light, illuminating specks of dust drifting throughout the air. There was a log on the ground a few feet to her left, with one of the beams of sunlight falling straight down to it. She moved to it and sat down, smiling at Virth. "Good enough," she replied. "Now start your story."

"A bit impatient, aren't we?" Virth commented as he sat down beside her.

"I think I have a right to be," Aida replied, looking at him pointedly.

He gave a small smile. "Perhaps." His eyes turned toward the ground then, and his dark brows drew over his forehead in a frown. "It's not a pleasant story," he said at last, looking up and into her eyes again, "not the type of story you tell. But you wanted to hear it."

She nodded, feeling a puzzled frown creasing her own brow now. It seemed to bother him so much, like—like he was a part of it, somehow. She supposed he probably was, even as she was, only...he knew so much more about it, and it was more...personal to him, though she didn't know why. "Go on," she said, when his eyes lingered on her.

With that, he turned away again, dark hair whipping out as he looked straight ahead. When he spoke, his voice was deep and grave. "It started with a princess, as I've said. Her name was Aurore, and she was more beautiful than the dawn—or so they said. She loved a man, deep within her heart. He was a warrior. She saw him at a banquet, standing across the room. She made her way through the crowd to him and touched his arm, and she took him into her heart."

"You mean—?"

"Yes. Her heart was...beautiful and pure, innocent as an angel. The sun seemed to dwell there and a golden white glow rested over everything. It was similar to yours—the place you saw when you saved me, the flowered meadow. Without realizing, you took me into your heart, saving my life."

"That was...my heart?" Aida asked, feeling confused. She didn't feel that she quite understood...all of this jumping into hearts was so strange, but then...the place had seemed familiar somehow.

"Yes," Virth replied, looking sincerely into her eyes. "The innocent heart...can do many things. When the princess took the warrior into her heart, he was also able to take her into his, and they knew each other better than two people ever can. And they loved each other. But he wasn't worthy of her. His heart wasn't like hers. There were all the things he loved in it, of course, but there was...darkness, too."

"How so?" Aida questioned, leaning toward Virth, who flinched away from her. She frowned, wondering what it was that troubled him so.

He looked at her steadily then, green eyes clear and plain. "He was flawed. He lacked her innocence, and there was an evil in him, an evil that might have—in a way, did—destroy them both. He didn't set off to ruin them, but...he did it all the same." He paused for a moment, looking off into the trees around them, before turning back to her.

"The Ageless are part of an ancient curse. It was the dying words of a king long ago, even before Aurore's birth. He said, in his last breath, _I bequeath my kingdom to those who will keep it forever._ At first it was taken lightly, but then...things changed. The family line of the royals changed many times as they were killed by jealous usurpers, all their doings were destroyed. No one could keep the kingdom in their hands.

"Then, the princess's family came to power, and she was born. She was pure and innocent. It is said that only an innocent heart can rule forever. If another innocent heart could join with hers, they could keep the kingdom in their family line. The warrior was put through many tests to see the merit of his heart and what was found within it. He went through many trials, traveling across the lands for obscurities, to test his faith, his goodwill. He excelled in all but the last.

"The last trial was a test of his honor, of how far he would go for the sake of good. He was put into a scenario—a vision—in which he saw the world at it's end. He had a choice to fight for the lives of many, or to die for the cause of honor, purity, innocence. He chose the former, fighting for life. He joined a group of people called the Ageless, who would not die. They said...they fought for life, to live forever, for what better fate was there than that? Other armies railed against them, saying that they had no understanding of love, of compassion. The warrior...he felt no need for compassion, not while death stared him in the face. He wanted life. In his vision, he would live forever with them.

"When he awoke from the vision, the princess's father, the king, told him that he was sorry, but he had failed. He was commanded to leave the princess alone, but he did not. They met in secret, and he persuaded her to run away with him, to elope. Aurore was blinded by her love for him. She didn't believe him capable of any wrong.

"On the night they were to leave, she waited for him in her private courtyard. I'm sure you've seen it before—it lies in ruins now, but there are marble statues there and roses, everywhere roses."

Aida nodded. She remembered waiting there for Aaren, much the same as the princess waited for her warrior—each of them for a man they believed capable of no wrong. She shivered. "I—I cut my finger on a thorn there. I was waiting for Aaren—on the night he captured me."

Virth nodded. "There were no thorns there, until that night the princess waited. And the roses there were white then. She was fingering a petal, when her hand caught on a thorn. Red blood dripped from her finger to the pure white rose, staining it. All of the roses there turned blood red that night, under the pale moon. And the princess fell to the cold marble floor, dead—or so the warrior thought when he reached her.

"He came too late. He saw first the guards at the palace as he passed. They also lay slumped on the ground, and he believed they had been killed. He ran through the palace, and everyone was the same. His heart began to tremble with fear. When he reached the princess, he cried out in agony, a loud, shearing scream.

"As the echoes died away, he saw something even more frightening. Out of the darkness formed beings of the night and of the cold, pale moon. There was something wrong with them that he could not place, something terrible. They approached the castle, marching all together in uniform, none of them ever straying from formation. And they seized it together, with no one to stand in their way.

The warrior fled from them then and hid himself, but later, he studied them, for he knew them. They were the Ageless, in his last trial, the very ones he had aligned himself with, for a life that could never die. They were all beautiful, and none of them old, but they cannot love, cannot have compassion. It didn't seem important in his vision, but at last now he realized the terrible truth. The Ageless have no hearts to feel love with."

Aida gasped at this, at last understanding. "Then Aaren is—"

"He's one of them, yes," Virth replied. "Everyone who has lived in that castle for nearly the past hundred years is Ageless, and none have ever died naturally. What the dying king uttered so long ago is now true. It's not only the innocent heart that lives forever. The Ageless can keep the kingdom and never lose it, never die."

She frowned then slightly, puzzled. She didn't know much about the royalty of Shyrin; she didn't know anyone who did know much about them—but she had heard their names before and different ones than Aaren. "But, Virth, before Aaren ruled there was Bram, and before him was...Diederick, and—"

"The king changes his name when the proper amount of time has passed, but he's still the same man—if you can call him a man. The rule did change once in the period, about fifty years ago, from Aaren's father to him.

"After the curse was fully in place, the warrior stayed around the area a few years, to see what would happen. The peasants seemed to forget completely about the princess and everyone else. They accepted the new rulers as if they had always been there, as if they were influenced by the curse as well. The princess and the king and queen and all of the nobles were not dead as he had assumed, but in a deep sleep. He saw the Ageless bury them all in tombs underneath the ruins of the princess's courtyard, in an attempt to hide them all away.

"The rest the warrior learned was from conversations he overheard from the Ageless. They feared something—a time they referred to merely as 'the end.'"

"The end of the...curse?" Aida asked, creasing her brow. She was still confused, though the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place. She still didn't know what this had to do with her, however, or how the curse could possibly be broken.

Virth nodded. "Yes, so it would seem. The curse has to last one hundred years, but after that, it's free to be broken."

"But...how can it be broken?"

"It has to be what the dying king said—his kingdom must belong to those who can keep it forever. The Ageless can keep it, but so can the Innocent. There are others like the princess, like you. The Ageless feared the Innocent joining together with the princess's true love and waking her—and the entire kingdom. They do their best to corrupt innocence, but lately they've taken another approach—stealing hearts. Aaren wants an Innocent heart for his own, so that he can wake the princess himself and marry her, ruling forever. He wants hearts for all of the Ageless as well, so that they'll all survive when the curse is broken."

"That's...why he tried to take my heart," Aida said, pursing her lips together. She moved her hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat there, slow and steady.

"Yes," Virth replied. "He tried to convince you by nearly making his way into your heart, so he could remind you of your love for him, but you didn't love him truly enough to give it away. He also played on your pity for him, saying he wouldn't survive. He was partially in truth, however. The Ageless cannot survive inside of hearts, can't come into them the way we can. If someone tries to bring the them into their heart, the Ageless is overwhelmed by it. They disappear, the same as if the curse was broken. But it's also destructive for the heart they were in. We have to join our hearts together—like the chain—but the Ageless have no hearts. It's like reaching off the edge of a cliff for something that's not there—you fall, and your heart is broken and gone. Then, you become Ageless like them.

Aida swallowed. Her heart had almost been taken by Aaren. She would have become Ageless like him. She didn't want to be like him. He was so cruel. And without love...what could any of them do?

"There are a few exceptions to the Ageless. Count Rivion, whom you met at my trial and execution," he gave a half amused smile at that, "he has half of a heart. Close to the beginning of the curse, a man saw one of the Ageless women and fell in love with her beauty. She found him amusing and agreed to marry him, yet she could not love him. In time, he gave her his entire heart, trying to show her his selfless love. He died in the act, and she had his heart and was at last able to feel love and pain. She grieved his loss and later died. Her son, Rivion, is half human and half Ageless, so he has half of a heart."

Aida blinked, unsure of what to think. It was such a strange tale. Tragic, really, but...mostly just strange. "That's...that—but—"

Virth nodded. "There are many strange tales concerning the Ageless."

Aida stared for a moment longer, trying to make sense of all this. "How long has it been since the curse began?" she asked at last.

"Nearly the hundred years. That's why Aaren has become so desperate to try and cut your heart out to get it. He is determined not to relinquish his hold on these lands."

"Oh," Aida said. "And...the warrior, what happened to him?"

Virth sighed. "He doesn't age either, though he still has a heart. But he sided with the Ageless once, and he lives as they live. In his vision...he made a promise to them, to give up his heart and live with them. He never did, but...the promise is still there. He was caught by them once and fought Aaren's father—King Owain. In a desperate suicide attempt, he dragged the king into his heart, making Owain feel the suffering he'd caused. You saw Owain in the throne room, the old man with the beard of many colors, for all the long years he's lived and not paid for. Owain got out of the warrior's heart, and they both survived, but the king aged so he was unfit to rule, and the warrior was harder and more bitter than before.

"He traveled much over the years, living always alone and never staying in one place for long. Every few years, he returned here, fighting the Ageless many times over the hundred year span. He killed many, slaughtering them like...cattle, until his own heart was dark and grey without color or life—a bitter wasteland of what it once was."

Aida started at this, thinking of...that grey, cold land Virth had taken her to. There was no color or life there, except for the dawn in the east and that woman...Aurore? In everyone's heart were the things they loved. It must have been his heart, and that would mean that...he loved the princess. "Virth," she ventured at last, barely above a whisper, "the warrior...who is he?"

He looked at her for a long moment, his face expressionless like stone, eyes unclouded. Then he rose from the log and walked away.

* * *

I know this is kind of infodumpish, but I hope it's...readable, at least, and not too confusing.


	8. Chapter 8

Slowly, she rose from her seat on the log and tried to remember the way back to the camp. It was a direct route, straight the whole way, and she was fairly certain she could make it on her own. Virth had left her alone, but he wouldn't have left her if he thought anything would happen to her. She knew that.

Virth _was_ the warrior, and he _had_ chosen his life over all else and aligned himself with the Ageless and then killed them mercilessly, but…he was a good man. She trusted him, she realized slowly—or at least, she trusted him more than anyone else at the moment, and…she didn't mind him leaving her here. She was going to learn to walk alone.

She took a step forward and then another and another, until she was walking briskly in the direction they'd come from. She passed through thick foliage, where deep green leaves rustled in the breeze and long shadows crowded around her. She passed through a grove of tall evergreens where the soft needles brushed against her skin, and she breathed in the sweet pine scent. Suddenly, she remembered a day that seemed like ages ago.

_She stood alone in the grove of pines. The breeze brushed against her and goosebumps rose on her skin. She crossed her arms, shivering. She just wanted to be alone for a moment, and this was her place; she always came here when she needed a moment to herself. The forest hid her within its shadows and life._

_Her brothers, they'd said—they'd told her to stay away from him. They said kings didn't marry peasants, and whatever he wanted with her couldn't be good. But they didn't understand! He was the king; he was noble and just; everyone said so! And he loved her, and she loved him, and she felt safe with him. Her brothers meant nothing compared to Aaren._

_It was as if he formed out of her thoughts; the very mention of him inside her head had pulled him out of light, out of tree and shadow, out of nothing. He stood beside her and smiled. "Aida."_

"_Aaren!" she said his name with a surprised smile. "You—how—I didn't see you coming."_

_He shrugged. "I knew you were here. You seemed...agitated. I thought you could use a friend." He stepped more directly in front of her and lifted a hand to her cheek, gazing at her with worried eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked._

_She reached up and pulled his hand from her face, lacing her fingers through his instead. "It's nothing," she said with a smile, pulling him from the trees and into a sunlit clearing. "How did you know I was here? I've never shown you this place."_

_He gave another slight shrug, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I make it my business to know where you are, Aida."_

"_Why?" she asked, tugging at his hand._

"_So I can be with you in an instant. So you'll never be alone." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly, watching her face with his pale blue eyes. His gaze surrounded her, reached into the deepest fiber of her being. At that moment, he was her world._

"_Wherever you are, Aida, I'm there."_

She opened her eyes and shivered. The wind seemed colder now, and she'd never felt so—surrounded. The trees towered above her only to come down and crush her. The pine scent strangled her breath. She took a step, then stopped, glancing around and biting her lip. Nothing seemed familiar now. She'd gotten turned around somehow. She didn't have a clue which way the camp was, and she was all alone.

_Wherever you are, Aida, I'm there._

Not alone. Far from being alone. She could feel his breath on her hair, on her neck. His ice cold fingers trailed along her arm. She looked up and could see his eyes in the sky, eerie blue with his dead stare. She froze, then _ran_.

There were thorns; she barely felt them. Warm blood trickled down her skin. She kept running. She couldn't breathe; her lungs burned in her chest. Every step was a gasping pain she could barely stand. She kept running.

She barely realized when she came out of the forest and ran headlong into Alexander. She was so startled she would have taken off in the other direction, but he put his hands on her shoulders to stop her.

"Aida," he said slowly, eyeing the scratches on her arms and noting her ragged breath. "What are you doing? Are you...alright"

She looked at him, then turned back toward the forest, where the trees shuddered in the wind. She could still feel Aaren; he was all around her. "I—he—Aaren!" she stammered at Alexander.

He looked into the forest, puzzled, then back into her eyes. "There's no one there."

"But I could feel him!" she shrieked, still terrified.

Alexander shook his head. "Aaren wouldn't be in the forest, Aida. If he was, I'd know about it, but I don't think he would dare coming this far. This is old land...very old." He glanced around at the thick trees like glorious green towers and seemed to forget all about her, filling his eyes only with forest, forest, forest.

She stared at him for a long moment as he stared at everything but her, and she abruptly burst into tears.

He jerked his head back around to look at her. "What's wrong?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

"I—I can't do this, Alexander!" she sobbed. "You don't understand. He's—I see him everywhere, and—I can't think with him in my mind, and I can't...I can't do anything!"

He pursed his lips, looking into the trees again. "Well...you got back here alright, didn't you?" he asked after a moment.

"I...I suppose I did," she said, realizing it for the first time as she looked around. The lodge was right there, with half a sturdy roof now, and men were all over the clearing doing various jobs. She'd made it back, alive and unharmed. She looked back at Alexander and wiped her eyes, feeling her cheeks flaming. It all seemed so foolish now.

Alexander looked politely away while she recovered herself, then turned back to her with a half smile. "Why don't we have a nice stroll around here?" he said, turning to follow along the edge of the woods. "So, Virth told you his whole story, did he?" he asked, as she came along beside him.

She nodded. "It was awful—I mean, what he went through. He is the warrior, isn't he?"

Alexander nodded back at her. "Yes. He's taken to telling it in third person these days. Finds it amusing, I think, trying to confuse us all." He gave a loud laugh.

Aida looked at him. The whole thing was horrifying, and he was standing there laughing about it.

He recovered himself in a moment when he saw that she wasn't joining in the humor. He coughed, then spoke again. "I suppose really he just wants to distance himself from it all. And it was so long ago...it must seem like a different lifetime to him now."

Aida nodded and glanced at the trees around them. They were so old, but still teeming with life—leaves and vines and insects everywhere. Virth...was old, too. And he had green eyes, beautiful eyes like the forest. His heart might have been gray and barren, but she was sure he still had life left in him. She looked back at Alexander, realizing that they were walking in silence. "What about you?" she asked. "Are you...one of the Innocent, too?"

"That's what they tell me," he replied, grinning. "Not quite like you, though. My heart...well, it's this forest, more or less."

"This forest? But how...?"

"It happens," he said, shrugging. "I'd show you, but, well, it's sort of personal, being my heart and all."

"Oh," Aida said, looking at the moss covered ground she was walking over.

He laughed abruptly, deep from his throat. "I'm joshing. Take my hand."

She looked at his tan, outstretched hand and hesitated. She thought of Aaren's paler, kingly hand, and Virth's bigger, muscled one. She'd been asked to trust so many people lately, and...it frightened her. She shook her head, trying to free herself of fear. He just wanted to show her his heart. How that sounded normal, she wasn't sure, but she put her hand into his and closed her eyes.

When she opened them, everything was green. It was the forest, like he'd said, but even more beautiful, more mesmerizing. It was thicker, older. Sunlight filtered through the trees in long fingers of light, like the hands of angels brushing her skin. A golden glow rested over the mossy ground, the hanging boughs, the fallen logs. She could breathe the smell of earth, of green. Everything was alive.

"It's so beautiful," she said, turning to Alexander beside her.

He looked at her and smiled. "I think so," he said. "It's the way the forest ought to be. Virth says it used to be like this, before the curse."

"The curse seemed to change a lot of things," she said with a sigh.

He nodded. "It did. But that's why we're fighting it," he said with a brighter smile. "Rebelling against the Ageless, fighting their cold, inhuman ways, changing the course of the world. It's quite exciting, actually."

She smiled, slightly, glancing at Alexander. He _would_ think it was exciting. "It's a little bit terrifying," she replied, thinking of her own experiences with Aaren—the Ageless. She tried to think of him in that term, the Ageless. He wasn't a person; he was part of a curse. But he'd acted like a person, he'd...loved her like a person, or at least—he'd done an awfully good job acting the part.

Alexander shrugged at her. "I suppose. In your position, it would be."

"In yours, too!" she reminded him. She didn't understand how he seemed so calm, so excited by this. It was amusing, but she couldn't imagine herself being so carefree. "You're one of the Innocent, too."

He shrugged again, seeming apologetic. "I am," he said, "but...I'm not afraid of the Ageless, Aida." He turned to her, sought her eyes until she was forced to stare into his gaze. "I left my home several years ago, leaving my mundane job of woodcutting to search for a life of adventure in the great unknown. I wandered around starving for a while, and then I met Virth. You've seen his heart, the same as I have, and you've seen the Ageless that did that to him. And—that's all they are, empty, nothing. I know what's inside my own heart, and it's more than that. It stuff that lasts. This forest has been alive for ages, and it'll go on for ages, with or without me. I'm not afraid to die."

Aida looked at him. He seemed so sincere, so honest about all this. She didn't have that kind of a resolve. She wished she did. "But—what if they...break your heart? What if you become like them?" He had to be afraid of something.

"If I become like them, Virth will kill me," he said with a small smile. "We've discussed this and agreed to kill each other if necessary. Only if it's really necessary, though. I feel like he's a bit too important for me to kill just because he might not have a heart, but...we've talked about it. We have plans, for whatever situation might occur."

She found herself smiling in spite of herself. It was such a morbid idea, but she felt she could see their friendship, strong and steadfast. She didn't have friends like that. After she met Aaren, she'd stopped listening to her brothers, to everyone. He was the only one she'd confided in, and now there was no one. Except...then she'd met Virth, the most unlikely man in the world, but somehow...she felt like she'd made a connection with him.

"I suppose you'll want to get back," Alexander said after a moment. "Virth will undoubtedly return after a short time of brooding in the forest. He does that occasionally, but he won't be long. For all his dark and menacing and overall silent ways, he doesn't like being alone."

She looked at him with another small smile and then glanced around. She hoped Alexander's heart wasn't as difficult to get out of as Virth's. She really wasn't in the mood for any cliff jumping.

"Now all we have to do is go down that path there," Alexander said, pointing to a wide path strewn with fallen leaves, thick green boughs hanging down over it. "After you," Alexander said, bowing away from her.

She stepped onto the path carefully, feeling herself sinking down into the piled leaves. She took one step, two, three, and it seemed to fade into nothing, the way dreams disappear as sleeping eyes open. She opened her eyes and found herself back at the edge of the woods, much the same, but less vivid.

Alexander stood beside her and glanced with a small frown at his surroundings, as if he was disappointed to be back here. He sighed as he looked at the way the forest stopped abruptly and grew only in small, vague patches after that point. "I don't know why we cleared so much land to build our lodge. I'm trying to make it grow back, but it takes time. Maybe after the curse...anyway, come on."

She followed him away from the forest's edge and towards the lodge, where he opened the big wooden door. Inside, it was one large room, half of it with a table and a few chairs, along with various cooking utensils and a fire ring. The other side had bedrolls and one hammock chained to a log in the wall. Everything had leaves and needles strewn across it, and the whole place smelled like damp moss, unable to shake off the feel of the forest.

"Sorry about the mess," Alexander said, looking around. "It's normally much neater than this. Well, there aren't leaves everywhere, in any case, but you know with the roof falling through...it just sort of fell apart. The neatness, I mean—and the roof too, I suppose, but..." he looked at her, "I'll try to...clean it up."

He looked at the mess with a rather blank gaze, and Aida began to wonder if he actually had any idea what to do about it. At that moment, the door swung open with a creak, and Virth walked in. He looked at the general state of things, at Aida briefly, and then at Alexander, raising one dark eyebrow.

"You seem to have made a lot of headway on those flapjacks," he said after a moment.

Alexander grinned. "Well, I didn't want to start them and have them all cold long before you two ever returned from your storytelling adventures. I was going to start now, but everything's such a mess."

"I've never known it be otherwise with you."

"Orderly chaos, Virth. I know where everything is all the time, but this is just..."

"Chaotic chaos?" Virth filled in, glancing around with a smile that made Aida stare. She'd never seen him look so...comfortable.

"Yes!" Alexander replied. "That exactly. And with a guest here!" He cast Aida with a desperate glance. "It's awful. The roof couldn't have picked a worse time to fall in."

Virth grunted. "Just cook. I'll clean what I can. Aida can..." he trailed off, glancing at her.

"I can help clean," she offered, glancing around. She was used to cleaning. She was the only one to do it at home, with both her parents gone and her brothers always working in the fields. This couldn't be much harder.

Virth nodded as Alexander threw a broom at Virth and a cloth at her, then turned to his own job of cooking. She glanced at Virth. He was still watching her with his vibrant green eyes, his lips slightly pursed together. For the first time since she'd known him, he seemed not completely sure of himself.

She swallowed and didn't know what to say. Everything seemed so trite compared to what he'd been through. She wanted to tell him that...she still trusted him, she understood—or at least, she was trying to understand—but it wouldn't come out right in words. "So," she said at last, "a hundred years. That's...a long time." She flushed; she sounded so foolish.

He only nodded.

She bit her lip, then glanced at the mess surrounding them. "Well, I guess we should get cleaning," she said with a forced smile, moving towards the table where the leaves had piled especially high. She ran her cloth over it, shoving the leaves to the floor. After a moment, Virth came over and began sweeping the leaves on the floor into a pile. They worked together for several minutes, saying nothing.

At last, she looked at him again, "Virth," she said feeling painfully awkward, "I wanted...to thank you."

"For what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She bit her lip, still brushing leaves off the table. "For...telling me the story—your story."

He said nothing for a moment, then shrugged. "You had to hear it."

"I know, but—it must have been hard for you. Everything had to be hard for you, and I just...you've been so—kind to me. Thank you, for that."

He continued sweeping, and she listened to the steady swish of the broom upon the floor, wondering if she'd said too much. After a long moment, she heard his low voice, "Your welcome."

* * *

This story still lives! This chapter...might be painfully boring, but exciting things shall come. To prove this, I have written a teaser trailer for the rest!

* * *

THIS SUMMER

The lodge was crowded, thick with voices straining to be heard over everyone else. She was growing tired of listening, of hearing arguing, of ideas that were going nowhere.

"We need a plan," Alexander's voice rose above the rest.

"I think we have one," said the stranger, the dark eyed man she'd seen arrive earlier. His voice was smooth and polished; he had an easy smile, but something about him seemed off putting. "We go to the princess's courtyard, open the tombs, and wake her. It's simple."

Virth's face was set in stone as his voice droned in a warning. "Nothing is simple with the Ageless. They'll know we're there. They can trace me as soon as I'm out of this forest." He glanced sideways at her and she saw him breathe. "And they can trace Aida too."

"What?"

BE PREPARED

She stared at the blood colored roses, as the moon shone on them. She could hear the sounds of the digging behind her, shovels striking against stone, clashing, clattering, banging. A steady rhythm, like her heart. Thump. Thump. Thump.

She swallowed. "Virth," she said, "I can feel him. They're coming."

**

The shrieks and howls of the monsters surrounded her. They were like everything she'd ever dreamed and been terrified of in her nightmares as a child. They were nightmares, as the Ageless were, nightmares out of nothing, out of cold, cold moonlight. They were coming closer, closer. They charged.

FOR HEARTS...

"Virth." She reached out to touch his arm, felt his muscle rippling under her touch.

He jerked away from her, turning on her with anger piercing his green eyes. "What if I can't wake her?" he asked, almost shouting.

She took a step back, shaking her head. She'd never seen him like this. "What do you mean?"

"I mean—what if I'm not her true love? What if I can't be, because I don't love her! Because—because—" He stepped towards her, pointing his finger at her sharply.

She was trembling. "Because why?" she asked, looking at his hand, his arms, his eyes, his lips. She wanted to memorize him, everything about him.

He shook his head at her. "You know why."

** ***

Aaren was in front of them, pale skin, cold blue eyes. He held his knife in his hand and she watched the blade glittering in the firelight. She took a step towards Virth, felt his arm sturdy against hers. He stepped away.

"Virth," Aaren said, a thin smile forming on his pale lips. "You have a debt to pay."

She looked at Virth, desperately. He wouldn't do it. He couldn't do it. He could fight them, he could run, escape somehow!

He took another step forward. "Take my heart," he said. He turned to glance back at her. "But leave her alone, please. She doesn't deserve this. I do."

"Virth!" she screamed his name, but he was already walking away, and Aaren was smiling at his knife.

LIKE YOU'VE NEVER SEEN BEFORE

Alexander grabbed her hand and pulled her into the circle. "We can wake her!" he shouted, glancing at the princess. She was beautiful, but pale as death. "We have to try. Now join hands, and close your eyes everyone!"

Aida held his hand and the hand of the woman next to her, and she closed her eyes. Nothing was happening, and she was panicking too much to concentrate. Slow down, she told herself. Just breathe. And listen. She searched for the light, the flowers, the sun. She heard her heart slowly beating. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Disclaimer: These scenes may or may not actually appear in the real story.


	9. Chapter 9

"Are all these people Innocent, then?" Aida asked, twisting around in her seat to catch a better view of the mass of people who'd arrived for the meeting. On further consideration, she supposed it wasn't quite a _mass_—more of a general scattering all across the clearing, with some of them already inside the lodge. Enough to be intimidating.

She glanced over at Virth who was sitting on an upright log beside her. He was using another one as a foot rest and smoking his pipe while he stared off into the forest. He didn't offer so much as a glance at all the people in the clearing. She crossed her arms, waiting for an answer.

He let out a few more puffs of smoke before glancing over at her. "No," he said. "There's only twelve of you. The rest of them just jumped on the bandwagon for one reason or another."

"Why twelve?" she asked, curious. It seemed like an awfully arbitrary number to her.

He shrugged. "Why not? Lucky number," he said, returning to his smoking.

"I've never heard of twelve being a lucky number," she said, not entirely sure she believed him.

"But you haven't been around as long as I have, have you?"

That silenced her for a moment, and she watched him to see if the mention of his past would make him uncomfortable, perhaps stop him from talking to her at all. She'd be sorry she mentioned it then. But all she saw were his green eyes scanning the tree line and periodic wafts of smoke rising up as he puffed away at his pipe. He seemed entirely unaffected.

"Was twelve really a lucky number a hundred years ago?" she ventured. Her voice was softer now, a little hesitant.

He turned his head to look at her, raising one eyebrow, and if she wasn't mistaken, he actually rolled his eyes at her before making a reply. "Don't see why not. It has it's own word, after all. Dozen."

She frowned, biting her lip. He wasn't really getting to the heart of the issue. "But...I just don't see how you know twelve is the right number! You didn't say anything about specific numbers before."

He smoked a bit more, then glanced at her. "Aida, one thing you're going to have to learn is that our whole plan for breaking this curse is based on conjecture and hearsay. You say 'why twelve?' We say 'why not twelve?' If it works..." He shrugged, turning back toward the forest and examining his pipe as if searching for the smallest of defects.

She frowned for a moment, but didn't reply, glancing at the people again instead. There had to be nearly fifty of them across the area, and she had no idea how to tell who was Innocent and who wasn't. Virth would know. She glanced at him again. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be relaxing, but she decided not to let that stop her. "Virth."

He squinted at her.

"Which people are the Innocent ones?"

He opened his eyes a bit wider and looked around the clearing before turning back to her. "Seeing as they're not standing in a special group together and instead are scattered all over, I really don't feel like pointing them all out to you."

She sighed. "A lot of help you are." She said it in a biting tone, but she couldn't keep back a small smile from her lips.

She saw the corner of his mouth twitch as he closed his eyes again and tilted his face back to catch the sunlight. Before long, she returned to watching people. Most of them were men, which she supposed was due to Alexander recruiting them as woodsmen. Some of them she recognized from yesterday, but there was a large number of strangers.

Part of her wanted to get up and meet them, introduce herself with a smile and a curtsy like she would have done in other times, but now...she couldn't trust them the way she used to trust everyone. And she was afraid of how they might see her. She still remembered Tomas's whisper, "king's lover," and the words rang in her mind. Was that all she'd ever be? Another part of her wondered if she was just a coward.

The woods on the opposite side of the clearing parted suddenly as a man on a big chestnut horse rode out of it. He gave a sweeping glance across the clearing, and he seemed to notice her before anyone else, as far away as she was. She saw his eyes as they locked on her, dark eyes—his pupils could barely be detected from his irises. He turned away just as quickly, jumping off his horse, handing the reins to someone else.

Alexander was standing nearby, and the man spoke a few words to him. Then Alexander addressed the people all around him and the word seemed to spread until the entire crowd began to gradually move inside.

Aida nudged Virth. "Everyone's going in the lodge."

He opened his eyes and looked around. "I suppose we'd better do the same," he said, standing up. He held out a hand to her, which she took, rising to her feet. "Prepare yourself for a very idiotic scene. I've never known these meetings to be anything other than foolish."

Aida glanced at him with a frown. "I thought these were your people," she said, raising a brow. These were the people who were helping him to the Breaking Dawn, as far as she understood it, but ever since they'd arrived he'd been acting like he didn't give a whit about any of them.

"I don't know where you got that idea," Virth replied as they began to walk towards the loge. "I'm not in the habit of owning anyone."

Aida said nothing as they were coming upon the doorway. Inside, the one room was crowded and the newly formed roof let in little light. It was dim and full of people she didn't know, and she felt her heart lurch in panic. Everyone was staring at her—or at least, she thought they were, and she had a sudden urge to go back out that door and never come back.

She looked about for Virth and found him close to her, looking through the room with a cool gaze. He seemed bored, even though they hadn't even started, and a bit annoyed that he had to be here at all. At her gaze, he turned to her and his eyes seemed a bit softer as he indicated the chair in front of her.

She looked down and saw that there were twelve seats around the long table. All of them were full except this one, at the end. Alexander was opposite from her, and he smiled when she looked at him. She took a deep breath before smiling back at him, then glancing over at Virth before she settled into the chair. She realized that she wanted to be here, not necessarily for the greater cause of the Breaking Dawn or seizing their country from the Ageless, but for those two men. She wasn't sure how it had happened, but they were her friends, and she wanted to help them in any way she could.

"Well," Alexander started when everyone was settled, either crowded into log seats or just standing around the table, "I'd like to thank all of you for being here today. It's been quite a while since we've had an occasion for a meeting like this, so perhaps I should reiterate our ultimate purpose."

Everyone waited for him to go on. Aida glanced at Virth, leaning against the wall beside her. His expression was in between bored and amused, a half smile on his lips while his eyes drooped closed.

"We are the forest rebels," Alexander stated with a flourish, "fighting the usurpers in the throne for the restoration of our true king and queen...and princess. The Ageless are cold, unfeeling creatures, and we fight them with truth and heart. Almost a hundred years have passed since they took over—in fact, the hundred year anniversary is coming up in just one fortnight. On this date, the curse will be allowed to be broken, the monarchy awakened, and the Ageless gone forever." He glanced around the room to see if his speech had the desired effect. Exactly what this effect was supposed to be, she wasn't sure. Everyone seemed in agreement, but not overly enthusiastic. They all nodded and waited for him to continue.

"It is said that the Innocent and the princess's true love can wake her—and the rest of the kingdom—together. Until today, we only had eleven Innocent, which hardly seemed the proper number, for various reasons. In any case, we have with us today Aida, whom Virth and I both believe has an Innocent heart, and is the key to breaking the curse of the Ageless."

Alexander smiled at her again, as she felt the rest of the room turn their eyes toward her, all watching, waiting to see what she was like. After a moment of painfully awkward silence, she smiled back at them, meeting the eyes of several around the table, and spoke a soft, "Hello," nodding her head at them.

"Aida, all of us around the table are the rest of the Innocent," Alexander said. "There's me, Brynn, Cade, Rem, Laif, Benjamin, Roslin, Mirna, Doran, Elinor, and Shem."

Aida looked around the table at the people whose names she was trying frantically to imprint with their faces. Brynn and Cade were both blond, freckled, and clearly related. Rem was small and dark, but smiling. Shem was the tall, sleek man at the end. Next to him was a white haired woman...Elinor was her name. There were two pretty girls and a few brawny men, but she'd already lost track of their names.

"It's...good to meet you," she said, rather belatedly, finally remembering manners. She should have said it right away, rather than gaping at them like that. But they'd understand, wouldn't they? She smiled, hoping so.

"As I've said, Virth and I believe her to be the last Innocent we need to help us wake the kingdom, but we must all come to a mutual agreement on this. Feel free to ask any questions."

"How did you find her?" the man at the end of the table—Shem— asked, glancing at Alexander on his right. "We heard stories, of course, when the meeting was called, but it all sounded like high flying gossip. Who is she really?"

"Well, I think Virth would be better for answering this question. He was the one that met her, actually, and—"

"What a silly question for anyone but her to answer herself," the white haired woman interrupted, directing her gaze toward Aida. Her eyes were a pale, washed out blue and questioning, but not unkindly. "Who are you really, dear?"

"I—I'm Aida Mallon, ma'am," she said. "I'm...just a farm girl." The words sounded so flat, so uninteresting, she had no idea why they'd want her with them. But it was what she was, and there was no changing that. "I live with my five brothers just outside of Hirsha. Our parents are gone, and I kept the house for them while they worked in the fields. I used to...sell flowers, in town sometimes."

The old woman's pale eyes seemed to say, "Is that all?"

Aida bit her lip. "And—and then I met Virth, and—"

"Saved me from hanging," Virth cut in. She glanced at him, and saw that he was still leaning on the wall, arms crossed, still bored, though it looked like he was paying a bit more attention to the conversation now.

"And what were you doing in the area, my lady, that made you so ready to help?"

She turned back to the table and saw those dark eyes. The same man she's seen arrive earlier was at the table, one of the Innocent, seated next to the white haired woman. What was his name? Laif...Benjamin...Doran? "I was in the area, because...you see, the king and I...we were...friends."

"Friends?" he questioned, leaning forward with one raised eyebrow.

"Lovers." It seemed to whisper throughout the room. No one was sure who said it, but it was out just the same. She looked down at her hands in her lap and just kept breathing. There was nothing she could say.

"A lover of Aaren's?" a louder man asked, one of the men apart from the table. "How can _she_ be Innocent? He's Ageless for goodness' sake! How could anyone love that? He doesn't even have a heart!"

"If she ever had any semblance of Innocence about her, he had to have corrupted it," someone else jumped into the conversation.

"Aye, she's not one of us, Alexander. We fight the Ageless! That's what you just said. I don't know what you're thinking bringing her here like this. She's not one of us."

"Gentlemen," Alexander spoke at last, breaking above the protests, "and ladies. What happened is done. Aida had no knowledge of what the king was until he tried to cut out her heart with a knife. He didn't succeed in this because it blasted the white light of Innocence at him when he tried. He doesn't have her heart, and she doesn't carry him in her heart. She doesn't serve the king, and she's not affiliated with him in any way."

There was a hush after that. Aida raised her head to look at Alexander and smiled a thank you, though she wasn't sure even he could help gain their approval. They respected him enough not to say anything about her now, but they still stared.

"Well," the white haired woman said at last, "if she maintained an Innocent heart through all that, what else matters? Not her past, surely."

"But are we to accept her, only on that merit, as the last and final one of us, the key to the Breaking Dawn?" this was the small, dark man speaking—Rem, she believed his name was. "I want to say that she is, but how do we know?"

"What I want to know," one of the girls broke in, "is what makes her so different from the rest of us? We're all Innocent, aren't we? How should this change anything? Is eleven just not enough?"

"Indeed," one of the men next to her nodded. "No offense to you, Alexander, but...why do we need her? Especially when the king's lover seems like such an unlikely candidate as an Innocent."

"I was dead," Virth said suddenly, breaking in with his deep voice before any more questions could be raised. "I was dead because I wouldn't give my heart away to Aaren, and Aida pulled me into her own heart and brought me back to life. She's not like the rest of you." His voice and expression, at first so intense, turned to a smirk. "Unless, of course, you've all just been hiding these abilities..."

Everyone looked at him as he settled back against the wall, examining his fingernails with an utter lack of care. There was an uncomfortable feel to the room, and she looked down at her hands again, wishing he could have said that without sounding quite so...quarrelsome.

"Well, perhaps now would be a good time to vote on it, then," Alexander broke the silence, smiling broadly. "Now I'd like you all to remember that there is only a fortnight until the curse is broken, and we will have to do something to fight the Ageless. Whether you want a girl who can bring people back to life on your side or not is up to you. Only the Innocent voting on this, please."

He paused for a moment, letting everyone have a moment to recover themselves. "Now, all in favor of Aida joining us as one of the Innocent, raise your hand." He raised his own hand, which was followed by Brynn and Cade who looked around at everyone else..

"I think she's lovely," Aida heard Brynn say in a whisper to Cade and anyone else who happened to be listening.

After a moment, Shem's hand went up, then the two girls on the left side of the table, Rem on the right, and the white-haired woman with a small smile on her wrinkled lips. The other three men followed in a moment, the dark eyed man last of all, with a slight nod in her direction.

"Excellent," Alexander said, dropping his hand. "Now then, the princess and her court are buried under the princess's old courtyard. It's a ghastly looking place and not one I'd like to spend my time in, but the door to the tombs is there somewhere. It shouldn't be too hard to dig up."

Aida barely heard him, she was so concentrated on looking around the table, wondering why these people had voted for her to join them. Aside from Virth and Alexander's obvious approval of her, they had no other reason she could see. Maybe there _was_ no other reason, but—the blond girl, Brynn, and Cade who looked like her twin brother, they hadn't said a thing during the whole conversation, but they voted for her without any sort of hesitation, and Brynn even said she was _lovely. _She couldn't fathom why.

When she came back to the conversation at last, they were again in heated debate.

"So we're just going to waltz in there, the night the curse can be broken, when you know the Ageless will be guarding it and fighting tooth and nail to keep us out? That's ridiculous!"

"They won't be guarding it!" someone else shouted back. "They're avoiding the place, to avoid suspicion. We heard Aaren say so himself!" Some of these men were spies then, apparently.

"Until then, maybe. But I'd bet my life they'll be there that night."

"Maybe we should go during the day," another voice said, another face in the crowd she didn't know. "They're creatures of moonlight, after all."

"If you ask me, we shouldn't go there at all. We should find another place to dig a way in. There has to be another way, and we'd be much less likely to be caught."

"There is no other way! And that would take years!"

Aida sighed. The lodge was crowded, and she was tired of so many people in so small a space. She felt confined, all these people, with their separate ideas and ways of thinking. And she was growing tired of listening, of hearing arguing, of ideas that were going nowhere.

"We need a plan," Alexander's voice rose above the rest.

"I think we have one," said the dark eyed man, the one she'd seen arrive earlier, the one who was among the first to question. His voice was smooth and polished; he had an easy smile, but something about him was off putting. "We go to the princess's courtyard, open the tombs and wake her. It's simple. And if we really are the Innocent...I'm sure we'll prevail."

"Nothing is simple with the Ageless," Virth's face was set in stone as his voice droned a warning. "They'll know we're there. They can trace me as soon as I'm out of this forest." He glanced sideways at her, and she saw him take a breath. "And they can trace Aida too."

"What?" Her own voice sounded strangled, her breath short. The Ageless—Aaren...could trace her...anywhere?

Virth glanced at her with a pained expression. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. When the Ageless come in close contact with a heart, they...keep remnants of it with them, remnants that can lead them back to the original heart. Aaren's father can trace me because of the battle I fought with him, when I pulled him into my heart and tried to kill us both. Aaren was on the edge of your heart, when we fell through the chain...you remember?"

She nodded. "I saw him, and then..I don't know what happened."

"You fainted, I believe," Virth said. The corner of his mouth lifted in humor, but he didn't seem to be mocking her.

"Well, do we have warriors, or don't we?" came a loud, roaring voice from the far side of the room, and Aida glanced down to see Tomas crossing his arms as he lowered his eyebrows at them all. "Virth, you've been fighting the Ageless long enough. You've a good hand on how to kill them by now, I'd imagine, and as for all of you woodsmen," he cast a glowering gaze around the room, seeming to seek each of them out individually, "you've been training long enough! You ought to know what to do by now, and if you don't, then good riddance to you."

Alexander glanced at the burly man with a smile. "Yes, Uncle. We have many skilled men, both workers and warriors. I believe we can fight the Ageless if we have to. We'll only have to hold them off long enough to get inside the tomb. Then we should be able to shut the door on them until we wake the court. And then...they'll be gone. Virth, you know where to find the door?"

Virth nodded. "I watched them bury everyone there and seal it shut. It was hidden well enough back then. After a hundred years...it ought to be quite buried"

"We can dig it out," Alexander insisted. "On behalf of us all, I'm making the decision—unless Virth, objects, of course," he nodded deferentially towards him. "In one fortnight, we'll set out at nightfall. Virth will lead us to the doorway. We'll dig it up, go inside, and wake them up. Doren was right, it is a simple plan, but I believe it will work, as long as we stay on our guard, and..." he glanced around the table, "stay innocent. Virth, what do you think?"

Virth waved his hand in dismissal. "Fine."

"Good," Alexander said, smiling. "Meet back here before sunset that night. Meeting adjourned."

* * *

Hopefully this was not horribly boring. I had a difficult time with it. I'm not a big fan of meeting scenes, but I felt it was necessary.


	10. Chapter 10

Aida watched as the last of the people who'd come for the meeting were left, all headed back to where they usually lived, to stay there until the fortnight passed. The horses began to canter away through the trees, and then they were gone. It seemed she'd be left with Virth, Alexander, Tomas, and the woodsmen—the same as before. Part of her wished she could get to know the other Innocent people better, but mostly she was glad it was quiet in the forest again.

As the woodsmen, along with Tomas and Alexander, began to move away from the front of the lodge, she turned to Virth beside her. "Virth," she said, "do you think you could teach me how to fight the Ageless?"

Virth glanced at her with slightly narrowed eyes. "I'm not sure my teaching you how to kill people would really be in the best interests of everyone," he said. "You know, the whole Innocent issue. I don't think the rest of them would approve."

She pursed her lips. "But—you said Aaren can trace me. If the Ageless come while we're at the tomb... don't any of the rest of them know how to fight?"

He shrugged. "Alexander does. And some of the other men have a vague idea, I'm sure. But in general... no. It's not what they do."

"So if I'm going to be killed, I shouldn't even try to defend myself. Is that what you're saying?" As she spoke, she felt her face growing hot; she was... angry. She rarely got angry about anything, but the idea of dying, when it could easily be prevented... it made her angry.

Virth let out his breath in a long sigh. "If I was a different person, I'd tell you that to die for the cause of the Breaking Dawn, the compassion and the innocence, is worth it." He paused. "But I'm not. All I'll say is, do what you have to." He looked at her a moment longer, then reached behind his back and pulled two knives out from under his clothing somewhere. "Swords aren't easy to hide, but... knives are." He held them out to her, hilts first.

She took the knives from his slowly, with shaky hands. She'd never really held a weapon before, and the fact that it wasn't something she was supposed to be doing made it seem all the more dangerous.

"You'll never have good aim with hands like that," Virth said, turning on his heel. "Put those somewhere on you and follow me."

She glanced up at his dark head moving away from her. She looked back down at the knives in her hand and quickly tried to stick them between her underclothes and overshirt. It didn't work very well. She crossed her arms to hold them in place and started quickly after Virth.

"That's a horrible hiding job," he said as she came alongside him. "You need a belt."

"Well," she said, "if you would give me one." She smiled sweetly at him.

"Fine. You can have one of mine. You'll have to poke another hole in it, though," he said, glancing over her. "You're awfully thin."

She said nothing but stayed walking in step beside him.

"I don't know how good you'll get with knives in a fortnight. We'll mainly practice throwing them. They're useless short distance. The Ageless will have much better weapons. And throwing knives isn't easy. It takes a lot of practice. But I'll do what I can to keep you safe."

She bit her lip and glanced at him. His eyes were straight ahead, face set in stone. He seemed all business. "Are you worried about it?" she asked finally, in a soft voice. She thought he didn't quite seem his usual, sarcastic self.

He glanced at her, and she noticed how green his eyes were again, but he looked quickly away. "A little bit. Both of us are going to be in the same place, and both of us can be traced by the Ageless. So yes, that worries me."

"They won't... kill us, though," she said.

"No, just cut out our hearts. Which, effectively, would kill you. But me on the other hand..." He gave a shrug and a grin, but it wasn't a happy grin.

"You promised to give up your heart and live with them," she recited dully, remembering that part of the story.

"Yes, and I'm afraid being a man of my word might come back to bite me."

She swallowed and then pursed her lips together. She saw now why he didn't take promises lightly. Yet, he'd promised her something and followed through with it. And he was doing even more for her, without a promise binding him. "Virth," she said, glancing at him again. "I'll do what I can to keep you safe, too. I promise."

He glanced at her; his eyes looked questioning, like he wasn't quite sure he believed her. But then they changed. He smiled, a very small twitch at the corner of his mouth. She smiled back at him.

When they stopped walking a few moments later, they were in the forest. She could see the lodge through the trees not far away, but far enough that they wouldn't easily be seen. There was a small sort of clearing here, where the sun seemed to dip down and spread the area with light, dappling on the grass and leaves.

"Take out the knives," Virth said, and she retrieved them from under her shirt.

He took one from her and held it out in front of himself, his palm wrapped around it, fingers on one side, thumb on the other. "Hold it like this," he said, glancing at her. "Not too tight, but not too loose. You want to have a good grip on it, but you don't want to fight it."

She copied him with the knife she still had in her hand, and he went on.

"Ideally, you'd stand sideways, with one foot more forward than the other, and turn at the waist to face your target. But in actuality...you won't have time for any of that. You'll just find your target, raise your arm, and throw." He hardly seemed to move, and then the knife shot from his hand into the tree several feet in front of them, hitting straight in the middle and sticking in the trunk. Virth turned to her with a half smile. "Well," he said, "now you try."

She looked at the knife in the tree and back at him. "I—but how did you—?"

He crossed his arms, refusing to say anything else.

Shaking her head a little, she raised her arm and threw the knife. It landed pitifully on the ground, several feet from the target tree. It was useless. She didn't have the slightest idea what she was doing. She looked at Virth and bit her lip.

"Not quite," Virth said with a smile. "You were too panicked. And you didn't aim at all."

"Well neither did you!" she protested. He'd thrown the knife like—like he didn't even have to look at the tree. It just got there, without him doing anything.

"Yes, I did," Virth said slowly. "You just didn't notice. In battle, you have to aim fast. You'll hardly have time to think about it. Keep both your eyes open and know how far you have to throw. Let's try this again." He walked towards the tree and she followed him, stopping where her knife was to pick it up off the ground.

They returned to their throwing spot, and he showed her again.

"Now, I can see my target, and I'm not going to take my eyes off of it. I'm just going to bring my arm up, and it's not going to be so much a throw as just bringing my arm forward, right towards my target, and letting go." He threw his knife and it hit the tree in the exact same spot it did before, a perfect hit.

She bit her lip. She still didn't see how she could do this. She looked at the tree, brought her arm up slowly, and threw. It landed a little closer to the tree this time, but still on the ground. She sighed and looked at Virth. "I'm not sure this is going to be a success," she said.

He shook his head and walked forward, taking the knife from the ground. "It's not this difficult," he said, handing her the knife. "Try again. I'll help." He walked behind her on her right side, and she felt his hand guiding her arm up and out. She was just ready to thrust forward and let go, when he caught her arm in a tight grip and stopped her. "You're holding it too tight," he said. "What did I tell you? Don't fight it."

"I'm not fighting it!" she argued, turning towards him. "I'm just—"

His green eyes silenced her. He held up a finger and shook his head. His hand moved to her wrist and brought her hand close to her face. "You're holding it too tight," he said again. "Think of the knife as an extension of your arm. You don't have to fight to control your own limbs. The knife is you. It's fighting for everything you're fighting for. You just have to give it a little bit of direction." He loosened her fingers on the hilt and wrapped his own fingers on top of hers. He raised her arm up, and together they moved the knife forward, towards the tree. At the top of their path, he let go and pulled her hand away with his. The knife soared forward and hit the tree dead center, next to his. The two knifes touched at the blades, stuck into the same part of the tree.

She glanced at Virth. "See," he said softly, "it's easy."

"It felt easy, that time. It felt wonderful."

Virth looked at her a moment more. Then he stepped away from her, shrugging. "Well, that's how you throw a knife," he said. "Let's see if you can do it again."

She nodded, and they walked to the tree again. They removed their knives at the same time, grasping the hilts and pulling the blades out of the bark. They walked back again and stood facing the tree.

"Now, on the count of three," Virth said. "One." They both found their targets at the center of tree. "Two." They both raised their arms up, ready to throw. "Three."

They threw, and as the knives flew through the air, she blinked and something strange happened. They weren't in the forest anymore. There was a sweet fragrance drifting around them, and there were shadows in the corner of her eye. They were on a grey cliff, in a flower meadow, both at once. She felt Virth stirring at her back. She blinked again, and they were back in the forest. Both knives were in the center of the tree.

She glanced at Virth. "I...I guess I can do it again," she said.

He looked at her and then at the knives in the tree. His forehead was creased into many lines. "I guess so," he said, with a lack of feeling. He started towards the tree without another word.

She started after him quickly. "Virth, what—what was that? What happened?"

He stopped walking and faced her abruptly. "It was my heart. And your heart."

"But why?"

He shrugged and started walking again. He stopped in front of the tree and pulled out his knife with a strong ferocity. "It can happen, when people are close to each other. I've never had it happen before, except...with Aurore." He stared ahead for a moment, and then started walking away.

She quickly took her knife from the tree and followed him again. "I—I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to—"

He snorted and rose an eyebrow at her. "I know," he said. "You don't have to apologize. It's not like I really care anyway. Aurore's been gone a long time."

"But—you love her," Aida said, looking up at him. He made it sound like he didn't care, but she couldn't believe that.

Virth didn't look at her. His eyes wandered through the trees, down at the ground, back to the lodge. "Yes," he finally said. "I guess so." He looked back at her, into her eyes, and she thought that he looked...well, not quite convincing. But not just that. They looked so alive and yet so, so...she couldn't put a name to it. She just wanted to...

She reached out her hand to touch him, but stopped herself. She took a step backward instead. She realized that she felt a little shaky, a little like—like part of his heart was still inside of hers. She felt closer to him than ever, and it wasn't quite comfortable. "Well—thank you," she said. "For teaching me."

He nodded. "I'll continue teaching you, if you want. Other angles and things."

She nodded back at him. "Yes. I'd like that."

* * *

"They're so beautiful," Aida said, staring up at the sky. The stars shone above them like a million diamonds, glistening in a curtain of black. She was sitting on a blanket with Virth on one side and Alexander on the other, a short ways away from the lodge.

"They are, aren't they?" Alexander said. "I never get tired of that sight."

She smiled at him and then looked down at her hands. "I can't believe it's really happening tomorrow," she said, slowly looking back up. She looked at Virth and felt... odd. Over the fortnight, he'd been teaching her how to throw knives and even a little bit of actual close combat with them. It had happened three more times, where their hearts seemed to wrap around each other. They didn't talk about it, just shrugged it off, but... she thought about it. Tomorrow, she'd help him wake up his true love. They'd be together again. Get married, probably. Well, she was happy for him.

"It is strange," Alexander spoke after a moment. "The time's just flown by."

She kept her eyes on Virth. He looked back at her, but he didn't speak.

"Does anyone want anything to eat?" Alexander asked abruptly, turning toward both of them. "I made rolls yesterday, and I think we ought to eat them before we go tomorrow. We don't know just what'll happen, and...I don't want them to get stale."

Aida smiled at him once again. "I'll have one," she said.

"Excellent. And you, Virth?"

Virth shrugged. "Why not?"

"Good! I'll go get a few," Alexander said. He jumped to his feet and started heading towards the lodge at a jog.

Aida turned back to Virth. "So," she said quietly, "tomorrow... everything changes."

Virth nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "It's about time. A hundred years is a terribly long time to wait for anything, Aida. Don't live to be as old as I am. You won't like it."

She looked at him without speaking. There was a slight smile on her face, but she didn't feel a lot like smiling. It seemed like... a lot had changed, just in this fortnight, and... she was finally comfortable now, and tomorrow everything was going to change all over again. "Virth!" she said abruptly, her voice ranging higher than she meant it to.

He swung his head around to look at her, and she bit her lip hard. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say now.

"Do you—do you think it will all work out all right?" she asked at last, twisting her fingers together.

Virth shrugged and glanced at the ground. "It depends on your definition of all right."

"But—do you think—"

"I said I'd try to keep you safe, and I still intend to," he said, looking into her eyes.

She sighed. "Yes. But... other things, like—" She glanced at him. He was watching her with a blank stare. She sighed again. "I'm just not sure I'm ready," she said.

There was a long pause before he said anything, and then it was very low and very quiet, so she could barely hear him. "You're not the only one." He looked away from her, and she was just going to ask him what he meant when he turned back to face her. "If there's anything you want before we go, what would it be?"

She bit her lip. "I—I don't know." She thought for a moment. So much had changed, so quickly. She was kidnapped and then ran away and ended up here, and... it had been so long since she'd been home. Home. And then she knew. "I... I wish my brothers knew what was happening to me. Or just—that I was all right. I wish someone would tell them." She looked back at Virth. His face was close to hers, again. She took a sharp breath and felt her heart beat once. She blinked, and it happened again. She took a sharp breath as she looked at the grey cliff and flowers cascading everywhere. She lowered her head down toward her chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be," Virth said, behind her. "I don't...mind this."

"I think I could have stopped it," she said, speaking what she'd barely thought. But it was true. She could have turned away from him. She could have refused to go. "I know I could have."

"So could I," Virth said.

She took a breath; she hadn't expected that. "Oh." She felt a gust of wind blow against her. There was warm air and cold air, tangled together in ribbons that wrapped around her skin. "It's... beautiful," she said after a moment.

"It's just you," Virth replied, his voice a hush in the wind.

"I don't think so." There was something beautiful about the shape of his heart— the mountains, the landscape that could be described by nothing but... wild.

"Maybe I shouldn't have taught you." His voice made her wince. He sounded a little bit angry, a little bit desperate. He didn't ask for this. Or did he? He said... he could have stopped it. But she could have, too.

"You were just trying to help," she said in a whisper. She turned around to face him. He was already facing her, and he was so close, his eyes so green, full of life... and pain. Her breath caught in her throat. Whatever she was going to say died on her lips.

"Tomorrow, everything changes," he said, looking steadily into her eyes.

She nodded at him and before she could say anything else, he blinked.

"I've got the rolls!" Alexander said, running toward them from the lodge.

She glanced at Virth and took in a long breath, putting a smile on her face for Alexander. "Thank you," she said, as he handed her one of the rolls. She and Virth ate them in silence, while Alexander carried the conversation on about whatever entered his head.

She spent the night in a fitful sleep and couldn't help feeling that she was almost dreading the Breaking Dawn, but that was so wrong, and Virth—Virth—what about him? She didn't even know, but he was in her thoughts, in her... heart. And she couldn't get him out. In the middle of the night, he left his bedroll and walked out the door alone. She wondered where he was going, and what he was doing, but it wasn't her place to ask him. She tried to go back to sleep, forcing her eyes shut and her thoughts calm

In the morning, there was a note beside her. Feeling puzzled, she picked it up to read.

_Aida! You're alive! Thank goodness! We are not completely certain of where you are or what you're doing (this Gideon fellow seems rather elusive), but we have been assured that you are alive, which is enough, for the moment. Please, stay alive. And please, come home sometime._

_ Love,_

_ Your brothers (Mattias, Lindwin, Isaac, Jechem, and Gelent)_

She smiled through tears and looked around for Virth, hoping that some things would stay the same, even after the Breaking Dawn.

* * *

So, I had kind of a difficult time getting back into this, and I don't really think this is the best chapter, quality wise. But...that's okay. This story has always been more about just writing than actual quality, anyway, so it's all good. But tell me what you think! I would appreciate a review! If anyone is still reading! I love you, if you are!


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